UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

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C.  MASON  KINNE, 

Assistanti,  ijeercwary, 
UVERPOOL  4  LONDON  &  GLOBE  INS.  CO. 

422  CALIFORNIA  ST.,  S.  F, 


COAST  REVIEW  JOB   PRINT 


Oj€  WlflPSJieK  *«  fl  Collection  of 

original  sbort  Stories,  Sketches,  Anecdotes 
and  essays.  Contributed  by  the  members 
of  tbe  fire  Underwriters'  Association  of 
tbe  Pacific,  and  printed  by  order  of  tbe 

Association. 


SAN  FRANCISCO, 
February  17th,   1898, 


THE    KNAPSACK 


"THE  SPECIAL  AND  His  GRIP." — See  page  177. 


PREFACE. 


Knapsack  is  as  familiar  to  the  insurance  people  of  the 
Pacific  Coast  as  fruit  and  flowers;  like  sunshine  in  a 
shady  place,  it  brings  light  and  warmth  where  it  is  most  ap- 
preciated; it  has  served  to  cheer  the  tedium  of  an  exacting 
business;  and  has  no  enemies. 

From  a  small  beginning,  experimentally,  it  has  become  an 
important  feature  of  the  annual  meetings  of  the  Fire  Under- 
writers' Association  of  the  Pacific.  In  the  beginning,  papers 
were  only  prepared  by  the  chairman  of  standing  committees, 
and  the  Knapsack  was  introduced  as  a  convenient  catch-all 
for  subjects  "grave  or  gay."  In  time,  the  members  before 
whom  papers  were  read,  became  restive  if  any  part  of  the 
Knapsack  was  "grave,"  and  at  a  later  date,  one  serious  paper 
caused  an  open  revolt;  this  was  hint  enough  to  the  editor; 
and  thereafter  the  Knapsack  was  dedicated  to  mirth. 

The  record  of  its  first  few  years  is  preserved  intact  herein, 
because  of  its  historic  interest,  but  the  rest  of  this  little 
volume  is  devoted  to  that  which  it  is  thought  will  best  in- 
terest the  members  of  the  Association  —  quips  and  quirks,  fun 
and  satire,  culled  from  the  records. 

I*et  it  be  known  that  the  Fire  Underwriters'  Association  of 
the  Pacific  is  like  a  united  family;  there  is  a  willing  hand  and 
a  friendly  interest  from  one  to  all;  the  ready  laugh  and  quick 
applause  is  more  the  outburst  of  affection  than  of  criti- 
cal appreciation.  The  subject  of  this  book  being  largely 
local,  the  interest  in  it  very  properly  centers  at  home. 
Those  who  edit  the  Knapsack  perform  a  labor  of  love,  and 
where  love  rules,  criticism  is  unknown. 


HISTORICAL. 

$  the  occasion  of  the  third  annual  meeting  of  the 

Fire  Underwriters'  Association  of  the  Pacific,  pre- 
sided over  by  Mr.  A.  P.  Flint,  held  in  San  Francisco, 
February  iSth,  1879,  the  Knapsack  was  conceived;  the 
subject  was  introduced  by  Mr.  L.  L.  Bromwell  in  the 
form  of  a  motion,  which  met  the  approval  of  the  As- 
sociation, and  then  and  there  was  created,  in  the  fol- 
lowing words:  UA  repository  for  the  collection  of 
material,  and  interesting  subjects,  not  properly  be- 
longing to  any  committee,  to  be  called  The  California 
Knapsack."  The  same  to  be  read  at  the  meetings  of 
the  Association. 

In  the  printed  list  of  officers  for  the  year  1880,  ap- 
pears the  statement  that  The  California  Knapsack  is  man- 
aged by  Col.  C.  Mason  Kinne  and  Wm.  Macdonald. 
After  the  initial  number  had  been  read,  President 
C.  T.  Hopkins  said,  with  enthusiasm,  "The  Knapsack 
is  too  good  to  be  allowed  to  perish." 

Col.  Kinne  continued  editor  until  the  year  1885. 

Geo.  F.  Grant  had  charge  in  1886  and  1887. 

E.  W-  Carpenter  in  1888;  and 

A.  J.  Wetzlar  in  1889  and  1890. 
Since  that  date,  to  the  present  time,  the  Knapsack 
has  been  under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  Geo.  F.  Grant, 
assisted  by  Mr.  Edward  Niles. 


THE    KNAPSACK. 


7 HE    KNAPSACK. 


LAST  CALL  FOR  "COPY."— 1880. 


CALIFORNIA  KNAPSACK. 
VOL  i.  No.  i. 

C.  MASON  KINNE,       -  Manager. 

PROSPECTUS. 

THE  manager  of  the  Knapsack  desires  to  convey  to  its  subscribers 
the  assurance  that  it  starts  out  on  the  troubled  sea  of  journalism  with  a 
large  capital,  vast  resources,  and  an  array  of  talent  second  to  none  of  the 
first  class  periodicals  of  the  day. 

Its  design  is  set  forth  in  the  resolution  which  called  it  into  being,  and 
if  a  realization  of  its  purpose  is  half  as  successful  as  the  enthusiasm  of  its 
conception — a  year  ago — all  will  be  well. 

Being  a  i2-months  child,  it  ought  to  come  into  the  world  (as  it  does) 
full  fledged  and  vigorous. 

We  are  prepared  for  any  weather — favorable  or  adverse — our  blankets 
are  rolled  and  strapped,  and  the  cold  reception  sometimes  awarded  to 
venturesome  news-mongers  will  not  affect  us.  The  Knapsack  is  filled  with 
good  things,  "from  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe;"  and  without 
more  of  preface  will  proceed  to  show  what  of  our  promises  can  be  ful- 
filled. 

THERE  had  been  a  fire  of  some  extent  in  Oregon,  and  a  gathering 
of  insurance  people  and  commercial  men  was  the  immediate  result.  Din- 
ing together,  it  was  noticed  that  an  unnaturally  good  appetite  and  a 
proverbial  scarcity  of  good  things,  sometimes  caused  one  of  the  genial 
adjusters  to  go  for  things  quite  early  and  freely.  Some  allusion  being 
made  to  the  fact  that  he  represented  the  only  company  whose  policy 
called  for  the  expenses  of  the  adjuster  to  be  paid  by  the  assured,  one  of 
the  travelers  quickly  put  the  absence  of  viands  and  this  clause  in  juxta- 
position after  this  fashion:  "Yes,  and  I  see  that  he  is  utilizing  the  'ad- 
juster's claws'  already."  After  that  the  rest  of  us  stood  a  better  show  at 
the  table. 


APROPOS  of  the  coining  of  new  words  and  changes  in  the  or- 
thography of  old  ones,  we  note  that  some  of  the  fire  companies  in  writing 
to  their  people  in  the  old  Mormon  district  of  Southern  California,  spell  the 
town  San  Burnardino. 


2  THE    KNAPSACK     1880 

THE    SCALPER'S    SOLILOQUY. 
[Tune— THE  OLD  SEXTON.] 

Nigh  to  a  house  that  was  newly  made, 
Stood  a  "Scalper"  bold,  and  thus  he  said — 
The  risk  is  good,  and  without  delay 
I'll  measure  the  width  of  this  alley-way; 
Ah!  it's  only  nine  feet  six  I  see, 
For  the  "tariff"  too  narrow,  alas  for  me! 
And  he  sighed  from  his  quivering  lips  so  thin, 
I  must  gather  it  in — I  must  gather  it  in. 

I  must  gather  it  in — for,  year  after  year 

I've  shaved  the  "tariff"  without  favor  or  fear; 

And  rated  these  houses  that  cluster  around, 

Without  any  regard  to  "exposures"  as  found  ; 

"Extra"  and  "special,"  "gilt-edged"  and  "scum," 

Find  place  in  my  companies  one  by  one ; 

But  come  they  from  strangers  or  come  they  from  kin, 

I  gather  them  in — I  gather  them  in. 

Not  many  are  with  me,  still  I'm  not  alone, 

I'm  king  of  the  "tariff"  and  make  it  my  throne ; 

In  dealing  out  rates  I'm  both  cautious  and  bold, 

And  my  sceptre  of  rule  is  the  "cheek"  that  I  hold  ; 

From  cottage  or  mansion  men  come  at  my  call, 

And  I  fix  up  a  rating  to  suit  great  and  small ; 

Let  them  dicker  for  "rebate"  or  come  down  with  the  "tin," 

I  gather  them  in — I  gather  them  in. 

I  gather  them  in — and  my  secret  I  rest 

Far  down  in  the  depths  of  my  own  guilty  breast ; 

And  the  "Scalper"  ceased-  -for  lo,  in  the  street 

He  spied  a  "square "  agent  he  cared  not  to  meet. 

And  I  said  to  myself,  when  lime  is  told, 

A  mightier  voice  than  that  '  Scalper's"  bold 

Will  sound  o'er  the  last  trump's  direful  din, 

I  gather  him  in — I  gather  him  in. 

A  FIRE  INSURANCE  AGENT  refused  to  issue  a  policy  to  a  man  who 
owned  a  broken- winged  hen.  He  said  the  company  had  cautioned  him 
to  look  out  for  defective  flews. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1880 


A    SHADOW    ON   THE    BUSINESS. 

nUCH  has  been  written  on  the  subject  of  insurance,  bearing  upon  its 
origin,  science,  practice  and  development. 

Much  has  been  said  in  convention  and  annual  meeting.  Happy  bursts 
of  impromptu,  have  told  the  humorous  side.  I  do  not  remember  to  have 
heard  discussed  what  may  be  termed  the  shadow  on  the  business. 

That  there  is  a  dramatic,  even  tragic  element,  is  well  known  to  the 
gentlemen  composing  this  Association.  It  is  not  known  to  the  superior 
officer.  It  borders  on  sentiment,  and  is  not  in  keeping  with  comparative 
statements,  classifications  or  dividends.  If  the  heart  of  the  special  is 
wrung  in  the  pursuit  of  his  duty,  it  does  not  appear  in  his  report.  Not 
once,  but  often,  the  sad,  sad  spectacle  of  hope  destroyed,  ambition 
wasted,  homes  broken,  family  ties  severed,  and  worse,  is  included  in  an 
adjustment.  You  do  not  seek  these  particulars  ;  they  come  with  the  other 
particulars. 

In  the  midst  of  ruin — with  some  stricken,  dazed  claimant,  you  go  over 
and  over  the  same  story,  picking  out  the  facts  which  serve  to  make  proof 
that  no  condition  of  the  contract  has  been  violated — or  the  reverse. 

The  company's  check  will  hardly  suffice  to  provide  new  clothing  for 
the  children.  What  is  that  to  you?  Your  stony  face  is  a  terror  to  that 
widow.  You  have  need  of  that  stony  face  to  hide  your  real  feelings.  Do 
you  remember  when  the  neighbors  told  how  valiantly  claimant  Blank  had 
worked  that  he  might  save  his  property  ? 

Oh  yes,  you  thought,  same  old  story.  You  hunted  up  his  dwelling. 
In  reply  to  your  question  the  gentleman  said — "  I  am  not  Mr.  Blank,  I  am 
his  physician ;  he  is  dead — died  suddenly  of  heart  disease,  from  overwork." 

That  was  a  good  settlement ;  the  directors  approved  the  application 
of  the  removal  clause — the  claimant  did  not  talk  back ;  but  the  wail  of 
mourning  lingers  in  your  memory. 

Then  the  day  we  took  train  together  bound  for  that  delinquent  agent, 
that  tiresome,  evasive,  delinquent  agent,  with  his  merry-happy-go-lucky 
disposition,  his  cozy  home,  his  hospitality. 

The  limit  was  reached;  he  had  been  warned.  We  did  not  for  a 
moment  doubt  that  we  would  prosecute  him  to  the  full  extent. 

We  nerved  ourselves  to  meet  his  genial  denial,  with  firmness.  We 
reached  the  spot  just  after  they  had  cut  the  body  down. 

There  he  was!  A  suicide!  His  young,  handsome  face  purple  in  death. 
No  money  to  be  made  by  talking  to  it. 

Did  we  sympathize  with  the  little  broken-hearted  woman  ? 

My  friend,  we  got  that  balance, — which  the  President  said  was  doing 
first  rate,  under  the  circumstances. 


4  THE   KNAPSACK     1880 


Our  sympathy  and  the  recollection  of  the  many  good  traits  of  his 
character  are  left  to  mock  us. 


HARRY    SMITH'S    STORY. 

HARRY  SMITH,  peace  be  to  his  ashes,  once  gave  me  a  leaf  from 
his  experience.  Seeing  in  the  newspaper  an  account  of  loss, 
one  of  his  own  pet  mountain  risks,  he  packed  up  and  started. 
From  the  stage-driver  he  gathered  particulars. 

It  was  a  hard  case ;  the  claimant,  an  honest  miner,  with  his  family, 
was  burned  out  of  house  and  home  and  was  camping  in  a  shanty.  No 
water  to  work  the  rocker — credit  almost  gone.  Driver  didn't  know  if  the 
house  was  insured;  nice  house,  cost  a  power  of  money.  Didn't  know 
how  the  fire  started.  It  was  six  miles  to  town,  too  far  to  give  an  alarm. 

Harry  alighted,  and  was  met  by  the  assured.  "Do  you  remember 
me?"  said  Harry.  "Oh  yes,  I  remember,  you're  the  insurance  man.  I 
haven't  got  anything  to  insure  now,  Mister ;  yonder  is  my  house  under 
them  ashes."  "Well,"  said  Harry,  "It  was  insured,  wasn't  it?"  "No! 
No !  I  meant  to  have  it  done  over  again,  but  the  time  went  by  and  it  run 
out.  It's  no  use  my  grieving  over  it,  stranger,  but  it  brings  us  down  to 
bedrock." 

"Well,  my  man,"  said  Harry,  "I  know  more  about  that  policy  than 
you  do.  It  has  not  run  out  yet,  and  I  am  here  to  pay  you  the  money." 
"What!"  he  shrieked.  "Wrhat!  Mister,  don't  you  fool  with  me.  You 
mean  it!  Wife!  Wife!  we're  saved,  saved!" 

"Here,  children!  run  and  call  your  mother;  excuse  me,  sir,  I  can't 
stand  it;  you  tell  the  old  woman."  And  the  honest  fellow  went  off  and 
shed  tears,  which  thumb-screws  could  not  have  forced  from  him. 

Harry  camped  with  them  that  night ;  there  were  four  children  playing 
about  the  place,  with  a  big  St.  Bernard  dog. 

The  host  noticed  Harry's  look  of  admiration  directed  to  the  dog,  and 
after  a  few  words  with  his  wife  and  the  children,  said:  "Mr.  Smith,  we 
want  to  give  you  something  for  a  keepsake ;  we  haven't  anything  but  the 
dog ;  if  you  will  take  the  dog  with  our  best  love,  we  give  him  to  you 
freely.  I  wouldn't  give  him  to  another  man,  Mr.  Smith.  Money  couldn't 
buy  him  from  us."  Harry  accepted  the  present  in  the  spirit  of  the  gift. 
Next  morning,  when  the  stage  loomed  in  sight,  a  mournful  group  of 
children  led  the  dog  forward ;  each  one  hugged  him  in  turn  and  whispered 
a  brief  farewell.  Harry  took  in  the  situation  and  addressed  the  children, 
in  that  cheery  voice  we  remember  so  well,  as  follows: 

"My  little  friends,  I  think  that  is  the  prettiest  dog  I  ever  saw,  but  I 
wouldn't  take  him  away  from  you — no  not  for  the  world.  I  give  him  back 


THE   KNAPSACK     1880 


to  you,  my  little  friends."  The  shout  of  joy  that  went  up  was  dearei  to 
Harry's  heart  than  a  thousand  dollar  salvage.  He  mounted  the  seat  be- 
side the  driver,  and  was  lost  to  their  sight— -forever!  G. 


POKER    BILL. 
I. 

TTT  was  in  the  days  of  stage  travel  over  the  Mojave  desert  from  Los 
Ji  Angeles,  before  the  Loop  road  was  completed,  that  a  party  of 
travelers  stood  shivering  at  two  in  the  morning  of  a  spring  day, 
waiting  orders  to  get  aboard  the  deep-chested,  leather-lined  Concord 
coach  bound  for  Caliente,  at  that  time  the  railroad  terminus.  Among 
the  number,  your  contributor,  used  up  by  two  days  and  nights  anxious 
work  on  a  particular  adjustment. 

At  the  word  he  glides  into  the  inside  front  seat,  folds  about  him  his 
ulster  and  falls  immediately  into  sleep,  deep  as  a  well  and  welcome  as 
May  flowers.  No  amount  of  squeezing  disturbs  him.  He  sways  with 
the  motion  of  the  coach  and  peacefully  rebounds  with  each  concussion ; 
the  first  streak  of  dawn  reveals  him  in  these  airy  flights.  It  lights  up  the 
inside  passengers,  showing  the  form  of  a  burly,  glad-hearted,  cheery- 
voiced  commercial  traveler,  known  to  the  trade  as  "Old  Iron;"  also  a 
slight,  fair-haired,  blue-eyed,  boyish-looking  young  fellow,  just  up  from  a 
two-weeks'  vacation  in  Arizona,  sun-burned  like  a  pirate,  and  armed  like 
a  footpad.  The  other  passengers  were  of  the  usual  variety.  They  are 
wide-awake,  fresh  and  buoyant,  drinking  in  the  cool,  delicious  morning 
air.  A  dense,  almost  sufficating  sweetness  is  in  the  breeze — a  pure  scent 
of  bud  and  blossom  everywhere.  Suddenly  a  gold  and  yellow  sunrise 
bursts  forth,  tingling  the  senses  with  delight.  The  very  horses  feel  the  ex- 
hilaration. The  driver,  too,  is  at  his  best.  He  pulls  the  six  plunging 
broncos  to  a  standstill,  and  tells  somebody  to  get  down  quick,  at  the  same 
time  informing  the  off-leader  confidentially  that  he  will  cut  the  whole 
heart  out  of  him  in  a  little  minute. 

The  somebody  got  down  quickly  and  joined  the  insiders.  He  was  a 
timid  looking  tourist,  faultlessly  dressed  for  travel,  with  an  eye  for  points 
that  smacked  of  the  guide-books.  Before  many  minutes  he  communicated 
to  the  commercial  traveler  a  fear  that  the  outside  passengers  were  a 
desperate  lot.  "Their  whole  talk  is  of  stage-robbers,  and  all  of  them 
carry  deadly  weapons."  "Old  Iron"  saw  his  chance  and  seized  it.  Point- 
ing to  the  sleeping  special,  he  said  in  a  tragic  whisper,  "That's  Poker 
Bill  himself!"  "Who— who  is  he?"  faltered  the  tourist.  "What!  never 


THE    KNAPSACK      1880 


heard  of  Poker  Bill,  the  Arizona  outlaw?  used  to  live  in  Baltimore;  killed 
his  father  in  '61 ;  ran  away  and  joined  the  Turks ;  turned  up  last  year  in 
Arizona.  He  is  the  captain  of  that  gang  outside.  He's  a  dead  shot.  I 
once  saw  him  shoot  a  man's  ear  off — man  refused  to  drink  with  him.  He 
can  pick  the  end  of  your  nose  off,  as  easy ;  best  natured  man  in  the  world 
if  you  don't  rile  him ;  when  he's  riled  it  just  seems  as  if  hell  was  let  loose. 
You  take  a  fool's  advice  and  don't  you  rile  him.  I  ain't  afraid  of  him  my- 
self; no,  sir.  I  once  saved  his  life.  He  thinks  the  world  of  me;  he  is 
going  up  to  the  Bay  to  keep  shady  for  a  while — shot  a  girl  down  in 
Prescott — just  an  accident — a  mistake,  as  you  may  say;  but  the  folks 
wouldn't  have  it ;  they  draw  the  line  on  girls  in  Prescott.  It's  near  break" 
fast  time,  and  I'm  going  to  wake  him  up;  mind  you  don't  you  rile 
him." 

The  passengers  enjoyed  the  sport,  and  blinked  and  grinned  at  each 
other.  The  tourist  grinned,  too,  but  in  an  uneasy  way,  like  one  who  is 
sea-sick. 


When  "Old  Iron"  woke  me  with  a  vigorous  shake,  my  remonstrance 
was  couched  in  such  forcible  yet  injudicious  language,  that  the  heart  of 
the  tourist  sank  within  him,  and  the  hope  of  meeting  a  mild-mannered 
cut-throat  died  in  his  breast.  A  few  broad  hints  gave  me  the  cue.  We 
fooled  him  to  the  top  of  his  bent.  We  waded  in  gore  for  his  benefit,  re- 
hearsed scenes  of  horrible  fancy,  dragged  to  light  bleeding  hearts  and 
quivering  fibers;  while  his  face — now  pale,  now  flushed — settled  into  a 
blue- white  glare  disagreeable  to  look  upon.  At  this  stage  of  the  proceed- 
ings the  fair-haired  passenger  took  a  hand. 

Up  to  this  time,  he  had  simply  assented  to  the  worst  propositions  by 
silent  and  solemn  nods,  as  if  mentally  checking  off  familiar  incidents.  He 
now  produced  a  wicked-looking  bowie-knife  from  his  boot-leg  and  pro- 
ceeded leisurerly  to  pick  his  teeth.  This  was  too  much.  With  one 
bound  the  tourist  disappeared  through  the  stage-door ;  with  alarm  we  saw 
him  roll  over  and  over  in  the  dust.  The  stage  halted ;  slowly  the  victim 
approached — uninjured,  a  wretched  object.  With  outstretched  arms  and 
a  trembling  voice,  he  begged  the  mystified  driver  to  let  him  ride  outside. 
He  rode  outside  all  day,  in  the  heat  and  dust.  He  would  not  leave  his 
perch ;  breakfast,  dinner,  supper  had  no  charm  for  him.  At  sunset  the 
passengers  held  council ;  something  had  to  be  done.  Supper  was  nearly 
over,  and  there  he  sat,  alone,  on  the  roof  of  the  coach.  By  request,  I 
reasoned  with  him — I  said:  "My  dear  sir,  get  down  and  eat;  don't  you 
see  it  is  all  a  joke? "  No  reply.  "  Get  down  like  a  good  fellow  and  have 
supper."  Silence.  Sternly  then  I  cried,  "Look  here,  confound  you,  if 


THE    KNAPSACK     1880 


you  don't  get  off  that  stage  inside  a  minute,  I'll  blow  a  hole  in  you  big 
enough  to  throw  a  pie  through."  That  brought  him.  Down  he  came  and 
did  eat — ate  like  one  who  had  fasted  long  in  the  wilderness. 

We  rode  through  the  twilight  and  reached  the  sleeping  car  on  time. 
As  I  stretched  myself  in  bed  with  a  thrill  of  pleasure,  in  anticipating 
sleep,  I  heard  a  troubled  voice  inquire : 

' '  Conductor,  has  Poker  Bill  gone  to  bed  ? "  ' '  Who  ? "  "  Poker  Bill , 
the  Arizona  outlaw."  "Never  heard  of  him."  "Why,  I  saw  you  take  a 
cigar  from  him  and  ask  after  his  brother  not  five  minutes  ago."  "Oh! 
him ;  what  did  you  call  him — Arizona  outlaw  ?  Outlaw  be  damned—that's 
an  insurance  adjuster." 

IT  WAS  NOT  the  Secretary  of  a  local  company,  doing  a  national 
business,  that  was  recently  offered  a  line  on  Zion's  Co-Operative  Institu- 
tion of  Salt  Lake,  at  one  per  cent.  After  "hemming  and  hawing"  at  the 
physical  inadequacy  of  the  rate,  he  finally  succumbed  with  the  remark, 
"  But,  after  all,  it  must  be  a  moral  hazard.  I  have  heard  Zion  very  fav- 
orably spoken  of."  And  the  policy  clerk  wrote  it  up. 


SAN  FRANCISCO,  February  3,  1880. 

COL.  C.  MASON  KINNE,  EDITOR  California  Knapsack, — My  dear 
sir :  The  following  clipping,  from  a  recent  number  of  the  Scientific 
American,  we  consider  of  sufficient  importance  to  find  permanent  lodg- 
ment in  No.  i,  Vol.  i,  of  our  fraternity's  Knapsack  of  useful  knowledge: 

FIRE    FROM    STEAM    PIPES. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Scientific  American:  In  answer  to  D.  E. 
Smith,  Oneida  Community,  N.  Y.,  I  will  say  fourteen  years'  observation 
has  led  me  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is  utterly  impossible  to  fire  wood,  or 
even  touch  paper  or  tinder,  with  steam  in  pipes  up  to  any  pressure  of 
steam  at  maximum  density — *'.  e.,  not  superheated— that  can  be  carried  on 
any  ordinarily  constructed  boiler. 

Why  do  not  the  wooden  lagging  of  steam  engine  cylinders,  portable 
boilers  and  large  steam  pipes  on  steamships,  etc.,  take  fire?  or  the  dust 
that  accumulates  on  steam  coils  in  woodworking  machine  shops?  Simply 
because  the  temperature  of  the  steam  pipe  is  not  sufficiently  high,  and 
that  the  lowest  temperature  capable  of  doing  so  is  between  500°  and  700° 
Fah. 

But  some  will  hint  at  conditions  and  make  use  of  the  words  "concen- 
tration of  heat"  and  "spontaneous  combustion." 


8  THE    KNAPSACK     1880 


Heat  of  this  description  cannot  be  concentrated,  and  is  not  capable  of 
making  anything  hotter  than  itself,  and  spontaneous  combustion  has  no 
place  in  our  consideration,  other  than,  if  we  are  dealing  with  substances 
that  are  likely  to  fire  spontaneously,  heat  will  assist  them,  whether  from 
steam  pipes  or  any  other  source. 

No  one  imagines  they  can  light  a  stick  against  a  boiling  kettle 
(temperature  212°),  but  many  will  say,  how  would  it  be  if  I  had  100  or  200 
pounds  of  steam;  it  would  be  so  much  hotter  then?  It  will  be  hotter. 
The  following  table  shows  the  increase  in  temperature  for  each  100 
pounds  in  pressure  (above  atmosphere)  up  to  400  pounds.  Let  them 
judge  for  themselves : 

Pressure.  Temp.  Fah.  Increase  temp. 

i  Ib.  214° 

100  Ib.                             338°  124°  ist  loo 

200  Ib.                             388°  50°  2d     " 

300  Ib.                             422°  34°  3d     " 

400  Ib.                             448°  26°  4th   " 

Respectfully, 

WM.  J.  BALDWIN,  Heating  Engineer. 
Elmira,  N.  K,  January  i,  1880. 


THE  other  day  an  amiable  looking  and  quite  pretty  young  lady  got 
into  a  crowded  Mission  street  car  and  steadied  herself  by  one  of  the  roof 
straps. 

"I  beg  you  will  sit  still — don't  move,"  she  said  sweetly  to  a  young 
man  who  offered  to  rise.  The  gentleman  resumed  his  seat  and  waited 
until  the  car  had  gone  about  a  mile  beyond  Woodward's  Gardens  and 
everybody  but  the  young  lady  and  himself  had  gotten  out.  Then,  turn- 
ing to  his  fellow  passenger,  he  said : 

"Now,  then,  Miss,  what  is  it?" 

"What  is  what?"  said  the  lady,  beginning  to  look  offended. 

"Why,  you  asked  me  not  to  get  out — now,  what  can  I  do  for  you?" 

The  young  lady  explained,  with  much  confusion,  that  she  only  meant 
to  decline  depriving  the  gentleman  of  his  seat. 

"Why,  you  don't  say  so!"  exclaimed  the  gentleman  with  apparent 
surprise.  "Why,  to  be  sure — I  might  have  known — how  stupid  of  me. 
A  pity,  too,  as  I  was  on  my  way  to  church." 

"I'm  very  sorry,"  faltered  the  young  lady. 

"Well,  it  can't  be  helped  now,"  continued  the  other  sadly;  and  to 


THE    KNAPSACK     1880 


show  her  he  wasn't  in  the  least  mad  he  handed  her  out  of  the  car  and 
walked  clear  home  with  her. 

IT  BURNED  a  few  weeks  ago,  but  the  records  of  Santa county 

failed  to  show  that  the  assured  had  any  title  to  the  nice  little  dwelling. 
So  the  adjuster  quietly  "hung  up"  the  claim.  On  his  next  visit  to  the 
town  he  was  approached  by  the  agent  of  a  rival  company,  who  had 
evidently  been  retained  by  the  assured,  and  who  explained  that  the  ap- 
parent discrepancy  was  only  the  result  of  a  little  mistake.  "You  see," 
said  he,  ' '  my  friend  was  instructed  to  insure  the  property  by  its  owner 
(who,  by  the  way,  generally  insures  with  me),  and  by  mistake  had  the 
policy  made  in  his  own  name ;  but  the  Confederacy  Insurance  Company, 
which  I  represent,  would  never  resist  the  claim  on  that  account.  We 
always  consider  the  intention."  "  Is  that  so !"  said  our  genial  adjuster 
of  doleful  name.  "Well  then,  it  was  doubtless  the  intention  of  your 
regular  customer  to  order  his  property  insured  with  you,  and  you  had 
better  pay  the  loss." 


AND  now,  the  manager  having  selected  the  foregoing  from  the  mass 
of  matter  provided,  he  realizes  that  life  is  short  and  time  is  precious,  so, 
with  the  statistics  of  a  Bromwell,  the  pleasantry  of  a  Carpenter,  the  poesy 
of  a  Bailey,  the  pleasing  diction  or  earnest  pathos  of  a  Grant,  the  clip- 
pings of  a  Staples  and  sundries  by  myself,  we  will  buckle  up  the  Knap- 
sack and  go  "marching  on"  for  another  while. 

Having  so  kindly,  considerately,  and  generously  held  open  the  ample 
flap  of  the  Knapsack,  in  order  that  the  charges  of  rhetoric  and  humor 
might  be  fired  in  by  the  anxious  and  waiting  throng  of  contributors,  we 
propose  to  thank  one  and  all  alike  for  their  assistance  in  this,  the  first 
essay  in  the  journalistic  realm. 


10  THE    KNAPSACK     1881 


CALIFORNIA    KNAPSACK. 
VOL.  i.  No.  2. 

C.  MASON  KINNE,        -         -         -         -         -         -        Manager. 


FIRE  UNDERWRITERS'  ASSOCIATION  OF  THE  PACIFIC, 
Editorial  Rooms  California  Knapsack,  422  California  Street, 

San  Francisco,  Feb.  i,  1881. 

MR. : 

Dear  Sir — Again  the  Editor  of  the  Knapsack  has  to  call  upon  its 
patrons  for  copy.  The  manuscript  that  you  have,  no  doubt,  prepared 
long  ago  for  this  demand  is  expected  to  be  sent  to  our  Editorial  Rooms 
on  or  before  the  i2th  instant. 

The  success  attending  our  first  issue  should  prompt  you  to  give  us  a 
sample  of  your  brightest  thoughts,  tersely  expressed,  embracing  such 
matters  as  properly  pertain  to  the  very  "broad  gauge"  of  an  insurance 
man. 

It  is  hoped  and  expected  that  your  missives  will  "fall  in  promptly." 

Very  respectfully, 

C.  MASON  KINNE,  Editor. 


EDITORIAL  ROOMS  California  Knapsack, 

San  Francisco,  Feb.  15,  1881. 

In  entering  upon  this,  the  second  volume  of  our  valuable  and  valued 
journal,  we  have  to  congratulate  ourselves  upon  the  flattering  reception 
accorded  us  last  year,  and  to  not  only  congratulate  but  thank  our  mem- 
bers who  have  so  kindly  answered  the  demand  for  "copy." 

As  this  periodical  is  intended  as  a  repository  for  the  collection  of 
material  and  remarks  on  interesting  subjects  not  properly  belonging  to 
any  committee,  it  was  deserving  of  success,  and  this  issue  as  well  as  the 
last  proves  that  some  such  omnium  gatherum  was  a  requisite,  and  fur- 
nishes a  vehicle  for  much  that  is  rich  and  racy,  valuable  and  entertaining. 

From  the  many  contributions  to  our  columns,  the  manager  selects 
those  he  proposes  to  present  to  you,  with  the  statement  that  the  others 
are  fully  as  deserving  of  a  place ;  but  life  is  short  and  time  is  precious, 
and  we  have  no  desire  to  weary  you  beyond  endurance. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1881  n 


BLACKSMITHING    IN    INSURANCE. 

A  CASE  came  under  the  observation  of  a  special  some  time  ago, 
while  in  the  general  office  of  a  company  doing  business  in  Cali- 
fornia, which  tends  to  show  the  importance  of  full  particulars  in 
making  diagrams  of  risks. 

It  seems  the  local  agent  of  a  small  country  town  some  years  ago  sent 
up  an  application,  stating  that  as  he  did  not  clearly  know  the  rate  on  the 
risk,  he  wished  the  company  to  affix  the  proper  rate  and  send  policy. 
This  was  done,  and  policy  renewed  year  after  year  until  the  year  1880 
rolled  around,  when  the  agent  paid  a  visit  to  San  Francisco,  and  while 
there  called  at  the  office  of  the  company  and  represented  that  Jones'  risk 
was  very  hard  to  retain,  as  the  rate  was  so  high.  The  application  was 
looked  up  and  showed  two  buildings  situate  within  ten  feet  of  each 
other— one  marked  "Jones'  dwelling,"  and  the  other  "  Black  Smith."  In 
making  the  rate,  the  general  agent  had  taken  as  a  basis  D  class  black- 
smith shop,  3.25 ;  exposure,  dwelling,  .50 ;  stove-pipe  and  cloth-lining, 
1.25— making  tariff  rate  5  per  cent. 

The  local  wanted  to  know  if  the  rate  could  not  be  made  less,  and 
explained  that  the  building  marked  "blacksmith"  was  no  blacksmith 
shop,  but  was  a  dwelling  occupied  by  a  colored  man  named  Smith, 
whom  he  had  designated  Black  Smith  on  the  diagram.  'Tis  needless  to 
say  the  rate  was  reduced,  all  parties  were  satisfied,  and  the  risk  retained 
on  the  books  of  the  company.  S. 


A  "WATER  CLAUSE"  NEEDED. 

EDITOR  KNAPSACK — Dear  Sir:  The  following  letter  was  received 
by  the  secretary  of  one  of  our  mining  companies,  and  is  interesting  as 
showing  the  broad  ground  that  some  writers  take  of  the  hazards  covered 
under  a  fire  policy.  We  can  no  longer  rest  in  fancied  security  from  loss 
by  floods,  but  must  at  once  establish  a  rate  for  this  risk  and  insert  a 
"water  clause"  in  our  policies.  The  orthography  of  the  letter  also 
indicates  that  the  ' '  spelling  reform ' '  has  taken  possession  of  the  claim- 
ant: 
" ,  Secretary: 

Dear  Sir:— We  are  still  on  top,  though  the  storm  for  the  past  few 
days  has  been  most  sevear.  My  house  was  flooded  on  night  of  3oth, 
and  carpiets  well  nigh  ruined,  otherwise  suffered  no  loss.  Suppose  we 
are  entitled  to  damiges  from  insurance  companies.  Are  we  not?  I  may 
be  able  to  use  carpiets  again.  Shall  have  them  washed  tomorrough  and 


12  THE    KNAPSACK      1881 

see  what  can  be  done  with  them.  Those  bought  in  my  time  cost 
$121.77.  Then  thare  is  another  that  used  to  be  on  sitting  room  of  which 
I  have  no  bill.  Some  bedding  and  blankets  were  soiled,  but  not  enough 
to  take  into  account. 

Truly  yours, ." 


RAILROADING    IN    THE    FAR    NORTH. 

EN  the  month  of  September,  some  six  years  ago,  the  writer  stood  upon 
a  rude  wharf  at  the  old  fur-trading  town  on  the  Upper  Columbia, 
called  Wallula.     Across  an  expanse  of  sand  some  thirty  buildings, 
comprising  this  once  prosperous  town,  were  to  be  seen,  perhaps  a  round 
dozen  of  which  were  occupied,  while  the  rest  were  more  or  less  dilapi- 
dated and  nearly  covered  up  by  the  drifting  sand,  which  in  some  instances 
reached  to  the  second  story  or  roof. 

The  immediate  object  of  the  scrutiny  was  to  determine  which  of  the 
inhabited  buildings  laid  claim  to  being  the  haven  for  travelers.  The 
afternoon  was,  moreover,  cold  and  gloomy  enough  to  cause  the  few 
arrivals  by  the  river  steamer  to  seek  shelter  without  delay.  The  only 
available  place  betrayed  no  sign,  but  one  of  the  very  few  residents  dis- 
closed its  whereabouts,  and  it  proved  to  be  a  combination  of  general 
merchandise  store,  hotel  and  apothecary's  shop — as  a  matter  of  course 
presided  over  by  an  American.  Careful  inquiry  failed  to  afford  any 
information  as  to  whether  the  train  would  leave  for  Walla  Walla  that  day 
or  the  next.  The  landlord  said  no  "time  table"  had  been  prepared,  and 
frankly  admitted  that  the  president  of  the  road  and  himself  were  not  on 
good  terms,  and  carefully  neglected  to  tell  any  one  just  when  a  train 
would  start.  The  captain  of  the  steamer  was  equally  unable  to  give  the 
information,  and  finally  supper  was  announced,  causing  a  temporary  sus- 
pension of  the  questioning.  Later  on,  we  gathered  around  the  "inevita- 
ble" stove  and  listened  with  great  interest  to  the  many  stories  about  the 
railroad,  furnished  by  a  person  who  had  arrived  on  the  train  from  Walla 
Walla  the  day  before — time,  seven  hours  ;  distance,  thirty  miles.  Until  a 
short  time  before,  he  said,  the  rails  in  use  were  made  of  wood,  but  iron 
had  been  procured  and  laid ;  that  the  rolling  stock  was  of  a  very  poor 
character ;  and,  impeded  by  sand  drifting  across  the  track,  the  result  was 
that  the  trip  ordinarily  consumed  more  time  than  would  suffice  to  walk 
the  whole  distance.  To  these  was  added  a  story  of  a  dog  belonging  to 
the  president,  which,  until  an  accident  had  occurred  by  which  its  life  was 
lost,  used  to  trot  along  with  the  engine  and  drive  cattle  off  the  track. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1881  i3 

An  early  rise  was  the  order  for  the  succeeding  day,  because  it  was 
said  that  the  train  might  come  in  and  return  to  Walla  Walla  at  any  hour; 
but  it  proved  to  be  n  o'clock  before  a  very  diminutive  locomotive  was 
espied  backing  down  two  small  cars  toward  the  wharf.  Next,  two  men 
came  out  of  a  saloon  near  by  with  common  water  pails  in  each  hand  and 
went  to  the  river  and  began  bringing  water  to  the  engine.  This  was 
poured  into  the  boiler  through  a  hole  on  top  fitted  with  a  lid  to  screw 
down.  The  smile  with  which  the  three  or  four  new-comers  greeted  this 
operation  was  only  equaled  by  the  non-concern  of  the  old  citizens,  in 
whose  eyes  the  proceeding  was  altogether  usual  and  in  order. 

In  a  short  time  the  conductor  announced  that  the  train  was  ready  to 
start ;  so,  taking  our  seats,  it  moved  away.  The  features  of  the  trip  con- 
sisted of  three  or  four  stops  at  stations,  including  the  taking  of  more 
water  at  least  twice,  and  the  frequent  halting  of  the  train  until  the  train 
hands  should  shovel  sand  from  the  track.  We  finally  arrived  at  Walla 
Walla  in  four  and  a  half  hours,  and  believed  the  assurances  that  the 
trip  had  been  a  quick  one  for  that  road.  The  object  of  the  journey  hav- 
ing been  attained,  arrangements  were  made  to  return  by  "fast  freight " 
to  Wallula  early  upon  the  following  day.  Before  leaving,  however,  the 
president  inquired  for  and  having  found  that  a  San  Francisco  insurance 
man  was  in  town,  he  applied  at  once  for  insurance  on  freight  carried  by 
his  road  and  which  might  possibly  be  destroyed  or  damaged  by  fire  from 
the  engines ;  which,  although  they  had  no  spark  catchers,  he  said,  were 
perfectly  safe,  owning  up,  however,  to  several  fires.  Promising  a  speedy 
reply  from  Portland,  the  return  was  commenced.  The  conductor  kindly 
consented  to  throw  a  bench  across  the  floor  of  an  ordinary  close  freight 
car  partly  filled  with  freight,  leaving  the  side-doors  open.  This  proved  to 
be  quite  desirable,  and  enabled  one  to  look  (until  tired)  at  the  waste  of 
sand,  relieved  here  and  there  by  scanty  vegetation  and  fences. 

After  some  time  had  passed,  I  became  conscious  of  the  presence  of 
an  unusual  degree  of  heat,  and,  casually  looking  around,  was  much  sur- 
prised to  see  the  end  of  the  car  on  fire  and  the  freight  in  a  fine  blaze. 
How  to  attract  attention  was  a  question,  and  to  add  to  the  dangers  of 
the  situation,  the  train  was  on  a  down  grade,  and  for  once  it  was  going 
altogether  too  fast  to  admit  of  a  jump.  Anxiously  looking  from  the  side 
in  hopes  that  the  engineer's  attention  could  be  gained,  a  water  station 
appeared  in  the  distance,  arid  the  surmise  was  rightly  made  that  the 
train  would  come  to  a  stop  and  the  writer  be  released.  The  stop  was 
made  and  the  fire  immediately  attacked  with  water  from  the  tank. 
After  this  the  train  went  on  and  finally  reached  Wallula  late  in  the 
afternoon  with  at  least  one  thankful  passenger. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that  the  president  was  never  troubled 
with  a  reply  to  his  insurance  proposition.  X-ELL. 


14  THE   KNAPSACK     1881 

THE  following  clipping  may  have  been  read  by  many  of  you,  but  is 
good  enough,  as  an  evidence  of  the  average  insurer's  idea,  to  read  to 
you  now : 

INSURANCE   AGAINST   NEIGHBORS. 

HUMAN  nature  is  the  same  the  world  over,  as  the  following 
incident  will  help  to  show.  A  local  insurance  agent  called  on 
two  of  his  customers  whose  premises  adjoin,  for  a  renewal  of 
their  policies.  The  first  one  is  a  grocer.  The  agent  said  to  him : 

"  I  suppose,  Mr. ,  that  you  will  renew  your  policy,  which  expires 

next  week?  I  have  called  to  see  about  it." 

"Well,  I  suppose  I'll  have  to,"  said  the  grocer.  "As  far  as  I  am 
concerned,  there  is  no  need  whatever  that  I  should  insure.  I  am  here 
all  day  to  look  after  things,  and  there  ain't  a  bit  of  danger  of  fire  from 
my  place.  But  there  is  no  telling  what  that  fellow  next  door  may  do, 
and  as  long  as  he  is  there  I've  got  to  keep  insured." 

The  agent  called  on  the  customer  next  door,  who  is  a  baker.  He 
could  not  help  reasoning  that  if  the  danger  in  that  establishment  was  so 
great  there  was  a  possibility  of  having  the  amount  of  his  policy  doubled, 
at  least. 

He  told  the  baker  why  he  called,  and  hinted  that  there  might  be  a 
probability  of  a  desire  to  increase  the  policy. 

"No,"  said  the  baker,  scratching  his  head  thoughtfully,  "I  don't 
believe  I'll  add  any  to  it.  I  wouldn't  insure  at  all  if  I  wasn't  where  I 
am.  You  see,  I'm  up  all  night  baking,  and  can  watch  things,  so  there's 
no  danger  here  ;  but  there's  no  telling  what  that  chap  next  door  will  be 
up  to.  If  it  wasn't  for  him  I  wouldn't  insure  a  cent ;  but  as  it  is,  I've  got 
to  do  it."— Ins.  World. 

CONSOLATION. 

'Twill  be  a  great  comfort  to  many  to  know, 
Insurance  adjusters  to  heaven  must  go ; 
For  if  a  just  man  is  bound  to  get  there, 
Most  surely  adjuster  no  worse  will  fare. 
Besides,  I  am  told,  it  chanced  one  day, 
An  insurance  adjuster  to  hades  did  stray, 
(The  chances  are,  'twas  the  fervent  prayer 
Of  a  policyholder  sent  him  there), 
And  at  once  aroused  the  devil's  ire 
By  investigating  the  cause  of  fire. 
He  annoyed  him  so,  old  Satan  swore 
Insurance  adjusters  should  come  there  no  more. 

D.  M.  B. 


7 HE   KNAPSACK     1881  75 

THE  following  is  from  the  same  pen  that  gave  us  the  excellent  article 
on  "  Shadows  "  last  year : 

SUNSHINE  IN  THE  BUSINESS. 

HOW  BLESSINGS  brighten  as  they  take  their  flight;  how  the 
scenes  and  incidents  of  ten  years  ago  stand  out  a  pleasing  con- 
trast to  the  toilsome  present.  I  remember  a  special  trip  from 
Oregon  to  California  in  that  happy  past.  Roseburg  was  the  starting 
point.  Roseburg  !  dreaming  in  the  lap  of  a  luxurious  valley  surrounded 
by  brave  hills. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  write,  it  was  Bohemia.  To  know  one  of  the 
boys  was  to  be  welcomed  on  every  hand.  There  was  Van  and  Asher 
and  Mac,  the  Colonel,  the  Senator  and  the  Judge.  The  freedom  of  the 
city  was  extended  and  accepted  with  more  of  hospitality  and  less  of  cere- 
mony than  in — London,  for  example. 

The  Senator  was  sole  agent  there  and  monopolized  everything  from 
dwelling  to  brewery.  The  stage  for  Redding  left  in  the  morning,  but 
there  was  a  night  before  that  morning,  all  owing  to  a  song,  a  simple 
camp  meeting  song.  No  sooner  did  its  notes  strike  the  Colonel's  ear 
than  he  was  aroused.  As  a  circus  band  rouses  the  neglected  charger, 
so  roused  it  him,  this  song,  that  Colonel.  From  away  down  South  in 
the  land  of  cotton  came  a  host  of  memories,  bright  days  of  his  boyhood, 
long  forgotten  in  the  race  for  wealth.  Tears  welled  to  his  eyes,  while 
his  smooth-shaved  lip  quivered  the  pleasure  he  felt. 

We  went  from  one  friend  to  another,  gathering  a  chorus  in  our  wake  ; 
the  Colonel  led  the  choir,  and  we  sang  this  song  until  circumstances 
made  it  advisable  to  pull  off  the  Colonel's  boots  and  put  him  to  bed. 
We  left  town  at  6  in  the  morning.  To  be  hurried  from  bed  at  candle- 
light, to  scour  the  town  for  a  mislaid  overcoat  with  a  lantern  ;  to  bolt  a 
useless  meal,  is  neither  impressive  or  inspiring,  but  a  dozen  outstretched 
hands,  a  dozen  voices  saying  good-bye,  friendly  packages  that  open  with 
a  pop  and  shut  with  a  gurgle,  these  are  the  charms  of  Roseburg.  Where 
else  in  the  world  do  people  get  out  of  bed  on  a  cold  day  in  the  dark  to 
say  good-bye?  The  stage  agent,  known  familiarly  as  "Van"  most  of 
the  time,  is  now  loading  the  coach,  solemn  and  unapproachable  as  a  chief 
engineer  at  a  fire ;  trunks  go  on  the  hind  boot,  mail  sacks  and  treasure 
box  in  front,  small  traps  under  the  seats,  over  them  the  passengers. 

I  have  the  seat  of  honor,  beside  the  driver;  the  man  at  the  right  of 
the  off  wheeler  buckles  in  the  trace,  the  man  at  the  head  of  the  leader 
springs  aside,  crack  goes  the  whip,  six  horses  plunge  madly  forward,  the 
brake  scrapes  a  moment,  and  we  are  off.  In  the  coach  is  a  man  who 


16  THE    KNAPSACK     1881 


telegraphed  from  Portland  for  an  inside  back  seat ;  he  wears  a  silk  hat. 
He  confided  to  "Van  "  a  desire  to  quicken  the  usual  schedule  time  by  a 
day  or  two ;  he  told  the  driver  at  the  first  watering  place  of  a  bet  to  beat 
the  time  of  a  friend  gone  down  by  steamer.  Do  I  need  to  tell  a  special 
agent  that  a  back  seat  is  the  worst  in  the  coach  ?  That  a  silk  hat  in 
traveling  is  an  impossibility  ?  No  more  than  I  need  add  that  this  man 
was  a  salesman  from  the  East.  He  became  a  nuisance,  he  and  his  hat, 
and  his  friend,  and  his  business.  At  the  first  piece  of  "corduroy"  we 
came  to,  the  driver  gave  us  a  hint  to  hold  on  and  then  let  out  his  team. 
Such  a  shaking  up  I  never  experienced.  We  held  on  and  howled;  above 
the  din  I  could  hear  the  voice  of  the  salesman,  first  loud,  then  fainter. 
When  we  stopped,  which  was  at  a  station,  he  crawled  out ;  his  back  was 
bent,  the  crown  of  that  hat  had  disappeared,  the  rim  was  around  his 
neck;  he  had  not  held  on  ;  he  was  a  wreck.  In  reply  to  threats  and  im- 
precations the  driver  said:  "So!  that's  all  the  thanks  I  get  for  trying  to 
help  a  man.  You  want  to  get  to  'Frisco,  don't  you?  want  to  beat  your 
friend?  Well,  I  drove  fast  on  purpose  to  help  you  out,  and  now  you 
growl;  want  to  be  an  angel,  don't  you?"  The  salesman  laid  over,  and 
his  friend  reached  San  Francisco  seven  days  ahead. 

After  stopping  at  Jacksonville  over  one  trip  I  was  uneasy  about  my 
seat  on  the  incoming  coach.  "Jerry,"  the  driver,  was  a  character  in  his 
way,  besides  being  a  perfect  encyclopedia  of  slang  phrases.  In  due  time 
she  hove  in  sight  with  Jerry  at  the  lines,  and  alongside  him  a  moon-faced 
traveler  with  helmet  hat  and  spread  umbrella.  There  was  a  quick  and 
expressive  interchange  of  glances  between  Jerry  and  me,  though  not  a 
word  was  spoken.  "Go  up  to  the  barn,"  he  said  later,  "and  get  on  the 
box  seat  when  the  hostler  brings  her  down."  I  sat  there  unconcerned 
while  Jerry  had  a  pow-wow  with  the  others;  there  seemed  to  be  con- 
siderable excitement,  with  violent  gesticulation,  and  Jerry  rattled  a  long 
iron  chain  which  he  held  in  his  hand ;  he  got  them  all  inside  at  last,  and 
and  after  riding  a  few  minutes  in  silence,  he  said:  "So  you're  a  maniac, 
are  yer — a  raving  maniac,  escaped  from  your  keeper,  did  yer?  Don't 
you  try  no  crazy  tricks  on  me,  sabe?  Cos  I'll  just  chain  yer  down  to  the 
boot,  I  will ;  that's  about  what  I'll  do.  Oh  you're  a  nice  lunatic,  you  are, 
with  a  bad  eye  ;  chawed  up  six  men  already,  you  have.  Why  don't  yer 
give  us  a  Stockton  yell?  Let  out  a  Napa  file-scraper,  will  yer?" 

And  he  chuckled  and  ogled  me,  and  turned  red  in  the  face,  and 
rolled  himself  about,  until  I  expected  to  see  him  go  over  the  dash-board 
head  first. 

"What  in  the  world  are  you  driving  at?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  he  never  tumbles!"  said  Jerry.  "He  don't  drop — can't  see  it 
yet,  eh?  Never  traveled  much,  did  yer?  Ain't  no  insurance  drummer, 


THE    KNAPSACK      1881  77 

be  yer?  only  a  minister,  perhaps — a  Sunday-school  teacher,  likely.  Ain't 
up  to  the  ways  of  a  wicked  world.  He's  a  little  lammie — has  to  have  his 
eyelids  tucked  back  to  see  anything,  he  has.  Oh,  oh,  oh  !  " 

"Jerry,"  said  I,  "if  you  don't  stop  this  infernal  nonsense,  you  won't 
get  a  cigar  the  whole  drive." 

"Mean  to  say  you  didn't  hear  the  racket  I  gave  'em?"  he  said,  in  an 
altered  tone.  "Why,  Lord  love  you,  thought  you  took  it  in  as  it  went 
along.  I  told  'em  you  was  escaped  from  an  asylum — mad  as  a  March 
hare ;  I  wouldn't  trust  yer  inside  for  fear  yer  might  tear  'em  all  to  pieces. 
Got  it  now?  See  it?  Good,  ain't  it?  Now  give  us  a  yell — a  regular 
blood-curdler.  That's  right — keep  it  up— send  it  into  'em!  Oh,  oh, 
oh!" 

All  day,  at  change  stations  and  watering-places,  those  deluded  in- 
siders consulted  with  Jerry  in  whispers  about  my  case.  Jerry  was  fertile 
in  resources— too  fertile,  for  he  mixed  his  stories  up  in  such  a  fashion 
that  it  dawned  on  them  at  last,  and  we  made  peace  at  Cole's  Station, 
where  we  took  supper  and  parted  with  Jerry. 

The  home  drive  was  made  with  Charlie  McConnell,  whose  skill  at 
the  lines  is  only  equaled  by  his  gallantry  and  elegant  manners  to  lady 
passengers.  One  of  the  fair  sex  was  beside  him ;  but  his  love  for  a  good 
cigar  overcame  other  obstacles,  and  he  made  room  for  me  also.  After  a 
while  the  lady  observed  a  little  white  post  by  the  roadside  with  a  large 
figure  2  painted  on  it. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  that?"  she  asked. 

Charlie  shot  a  glance  over  to  me,  and  solemnly  replied : 

"  Madam,  that  is  a  grave.  Two  people  are  buried  there.  On  a  dark 
night  the  stage  upset.  Two  people — strangers— were  killed.  The  driver 
escaped  as  by  a  miracle.  We  buried  them  there,  and  erected  this  simple 
shaft  to  mark  the  spot." 

"Dear,  dear!"  she  said,  "how  sad!" 

After  a  while  she  said : 

"Why,  there  is  another  head-board  with  5  on  it." 

"Yes,  madam — the  result  of  another  accident.  Here  in  this  lonely 
spot  lies  all  that  is  mortal  of  five  persons— all  strangers— who  met  their 
fate  by  being  thrown  over  this  cliff  on  a  winter  day.  The  driver  escaped 
as  by  a  miracle.  We  read  the  funeral  service  over  them  and  buried  them 
together,  erecting  this  simple  shaft  to  mark  the  spot." 

"This  is  too  horrible !     Do  accidents  often  happen?"  she  asked. 

"They  do— they  do,  alas,  too  frequently,"  said  Charlie. 

Some  hours  later  our  lady  passenger  gave  a  scream,  and  started 
from  her  seat. 


1 8  THE   KNAPSACK     1881 

"Mr.  Driver,"  she  said,  "There  is  a  grave-post  with  13  painted  on 
it!" 

Charlie's  tone  of  solemnity  was  sublime.  "My  dear  madam,  I  am  so 
sorry.  That  was  indeed  a  frightful  affair.  Coach  and  horses,  passengers 
and  driver,  went  down  this  precipice  with  one  grand  crash.  I  was  spared 
as  by  a  miracle — caught  on  the  projecting  ,limb  of  a  tree.  Hours  after, 
when  I  reached  the  wreck,  all  were  dead  but  one,  and  I  finished  him  off 
with  a  kingbolt.  It  was  hard  to  do,  but  these  survivors  always  sue  the 
company  for  damages,  and  I  am  simply  working  for  my  employer's  in- 
terest. Madam,  we  read  the  funeral  service  over  them,  and  buried  them 
together,  erecting  this  simple  shaft  to  mark  the  spot." 

"Driver,"  she  said,  "I  do  not  wish  to  discredit  any  statement  you 
may  make,  or  to  appear  to  doubt  your  word,  but  I  must  say  this  other- 
wise agonizing  narrative  seems  to  me  like  a  fairy  story." 

"Madam,"  said  Charlie,  "you  have  guessed  it.  I  really  must 
apologize  for  the  kingbolt ;  otherwise  I  think  it  is  a  shame  to  spoil  a  good 
story." 

And  so  this  jolly  ride  had  an  end,  like  all  else  in  life ;  the  stage-load 
became  diluted  in  the  larger  accommodation  train,  and  we  drifted  into 
the  big  stream  of  humanity  rushing  to  "the  bay."  G. 


WHERE    WAS    THE    DEACON? 

IT  was  at  Sacramento,  last  year,  during  the  "session,"  time  mid- 
night, when  two  of  the  boys  parted  thus:  Said  one,  "Good-night,  old 
man — I  leave  you  here.  Have  to  sit  up  with  a  sick  friend.  By  the  way, 
do  me  the  favor,  as  you  pass  my  room  on  your  way  to  bed,  to  step 
in  and  disarrange  it ;  turn  down  the  clothes  and  rumple  the  pillows.  My 
door  is  never  locked,  and  when  the  others  look  in  at  breakfast  time  they 
will  see  that  I  am  off.  Understand?" 

"All  right,"  said  No.  2. 

They  met  at  noon.  In  reply  to  vigorous  upbraiding,  No.  2  said:  " I 
did  disarrange  your  room,  put  water  in  the  basin,  rumpled  the  towels, 
tore  the  bed  to  pieces — why  room  17  looked  as  if  there  had  been  a 
fight!" 

"Seventeen?  Good  gracious,  that's  wrong!  That's  the  Deacon's 
room!" 

"The  dickens  it  is !    Then,  where  was  the  deacon?" 


THE    KNAPSACK     1881  i9 


HAVERSACK    PHILOSOPHY— CRUSTY    HARD-TACK. 

Mr.  Editor:  Nutritive  and  brilliant  extravaganza  in  your  spicy 
department  is  always  enjoyable  and  appreciated,  and  this  fact  warrants 
the  relegation  of  these  meagre  and  crusty  rations  to  the  knapsack's 
accompaniment — as  anticipated  by  the  title  of  our  contribution.  It  need 
not  be  inferred  that  we  are  starting  out  on  any  well-defined  long  march, 
and  that  our  haversack  is  replete  with  dry  "crumbs  of  comfort" — on  the 
contrary,  ours  is  a  foraging  expedition !  We  may  camp  in  dangerous 
fields,  and  tramp  on  the  corns  of  friend  and  foe  alike  in  these  chosen 
philosophical  meanderings— brief,  because  obliged  to  be,  but  nevertheless 
realizing  that  the  practical  teachings  of  the  association  admit  the  broadest 
toleration  of  individual  opinions,  and  steadily  ameliorates  all  prejudices 
incident  to  the  denominational  or  varied  interests  of  fire  underwriting.  A 
little  healthful,  plain  talk,  therefore,  in  an  Association  where  there  is  no 
distinctive  line  drawn  as  separating  local,  Eastern  or  foreign,  Board  or 
non-Board,  experienced  or  inexperienced,  may  tend  to  strengthen  and 
sustain  a  common  brotherhood  of  underwriters  in  their  efforts  to  elevate 
our  business,  not  only  by  discussing  fresh  topics,  but  by  putting  older 
ideas  into  fresh  and  practicable  shape.  Therefore, 

ist.  It  is  most  obvious  that  members,  one  and  all,  should  take  a 
deeper  interest  in  and  participate  in  all  regular  meetings;  instead  of 
shirking ',  take  rank  among  the  workers ;  produce  something,  and  not, 
like  a  sponge,  absorb  all  that  conies  along,  waiting  to  be  squeezed  into 
reciprocity. 

2d.  Life  is  too  short  for  men  in  this  great  business  of  ours  to 
attempt  the  remodeling  of  characters  we  find  in  it.  Active-minded  idlers 
are  even  worse,  and  certainly  more  dangerous,  than  the  throng  of 
microscopic  busy-bodies  who  magnify  trifles,  but  are  incompetent  to 
grasp  greater  ones.  All  these  characters  add  a  zest,  and  amount  to  a 
necessity,  towards  perfecting  our  underwriting  drama ;  otherwise  it  would 
drift  into  a  monotonous  and  enervating  comedy — a  kind  of  goody-goody 
humdrum,  without  progress  or  enterprise. 

3d.  We  may  sermonize,  declaim,  exhort,  harangue,  and  lecture,  but 
the  members  of  the  Pacific  Association  must  give  results — the  motive 
power — if  the  fraternity  is  to  feel  the  benefits  of  such  Association ; 
quarterly  outbursts  of  courtesy  and  annual  assentation  to  creed-bound 
practices  amount  to  naught  unless  carried  into  everyday  life  and  honor- 
ably adhered  to,  because  appropriate,  becoming  and  comfortable. 

4th.  It  is  a  lamentable  fact  that  adjusters  on  the  Pacific  Coast  are 
becoming  gradually  extinct,  and  their  places  supplied  by  a  class  at 


20  THE    KNAPSACK      1881 


present  without  epithetic  distinction,  unless  we  introduce  them  here  as 
"settlers."  The  over- anxiety  of  the  companies  themselves  to  pay  losses, 
and  the  thin-skinned  make-up  of  executives,  are  the  responsible  causes 
for  the  extinction  of  the  former  and  the  epidemic  of  the  latter. 

5th.  Legislative  prodding  creates  too  much  noise,  fuss  and  cackling 
among  underwriters.  If  this  exhibition  and  characteristic  virtue  of  insur- 
ance men  could  be  spread  out,  and  some  attention  given  by  them  to 
politics  from  the  primaries  to  election  day,  their  power  and  influence 
could  be  so  deployed  as  to  economize  all  these  periodical  anxieties  and 
wastes  of  time,  chin-music  and  bullion. 

Lastly,  fully  equaling  a  military  campaign  in  discomforts,  inconven- 
iences and  hardships,  is  the  continuous  life  of  the  faithful,  plodding 
special  agent  and  adjuster,  and  with  just  about  the  same  consequences ; 
if  successful,  the  generals  in  command  secure  the  credit ;  if  defeated  and 
routed,  we  must  then  be  prepared  to  selfishly  shoulder  the  blame  without 
any  division  whatever.  There  are  several  sides  to  this  picture  at  variance 
with  the  above,  as  every  special  present  verily  believes. 

We  have  now  finished  our  tramp.  If  results  shall  be  fruitful  of  the 
good  intended,  then  our  reward  is  ample  and  sufficient.  In  the  meantime 
permit  us  to  subscribe  ourselves  merely  a 

MALICIOUS  SKIRMISHER. 


EDITOR  Knapsack, — Dear  Sir:  Your  valued  reminder  of  the  ist 
inst.  is  just  received,  and  I  am  sorry  found  me  not  like  the  wise  virgins — 
for  no  manuscript  i was  ready  or  even  thought  of,  and  only  to  give  you 
"copy"  do  I  presume  to  take  your  valuable  time.  As  you  want  "broad 
gauge,"  I  give  it  to  you,  entitled 

"THE    BASE  LINE." 

Some  years  ago  an  adjuster  for  one  of  our  Eastern  companies  was 
sent  to  Humboldt  county  to  settle  a  loss  on  a  livery-stable  building, 

owned  by  the  well-known  stage  man,  Tom  S .     The  claimant  and 

adjuster  arriving  at  the  scene  of  the  conflagration  too  late  in  the  evening 
to  do  anything,  it  was  agreed  to  meet  at  7  o'clock  the  following  morning 
for  work.  Promptly  at  seven,  both  parties  were  on  the  ground  The 
measure  of  the  building  was  "taped  off";  sizes  of  sills,  posts,  plates, 
joist,  rafters  and  other  necessary  memoranda  made:  whereupon  the 
claimant  was  asked  if  he  knew  of  a  reliable  builder  in  town  who  was  well 
up  in  estimating  on  buildings  and  contracting  for  work  of  that  kind.  He 
said  that  there  was  a  first-class  man  who  thoroughly  understood  the  case, 
and  he  soon  had  him  at  the  place.  On  propounding  the  question,  the 


THE   KNAPSACK     1881  21 


adjuster  was  convinced  by  the  emphatic  and  confident  answer  of  the 
builder  that  he  was  the  man  looked  for,  and  opportunity  only  was  lacking 
to  launch  upon  the  world  the  result  of  a  well-stored  mind.  The  ground 
plan  was  again  taped,  the  sizes  of  timbers  and  general  construction  of  the 
stable  gone  over,  and  then  the  builder  was  ready  to  go  to  his  office  and 
Jigger. 

When  asked  how  soon  he  would  return  with  his  estimate,  he 
said  in  a  couple  of  hours.  It  being  then  nearly  8  o'clock,  and  as  he 
wanted  to  do  his  work  undisturbed,  this  gave  the  adjuster  plenty  of  time 
to  fill  out  his  proofs  (except  the  amounts)  and  also  to  look  around  town. 
Having  rained  for  a  number  of  days  previous,  the  country  was  not  in  a 
favorable  condition  for  extensive  pedestrian  exercise,  so  ample  oppor- 
tunity was  afforded  to  watch  the  clock.  Ten  o'clock  soon  came,  but  no 
builder;  then  eleven  and  twelve.  Dinner  here  came  to  the  rescue  and 
was  quickly  disposed  of,  and  then  the  wonder  was,  why  does  that  man 
delay  so  much?  One  o'clock,  two,  and  at  three  o'clock,  with  patience 
well  nigh  exhausted,  the  adjuster  proceeded  to  the  office  to  interview  the 
builder. 

On  arriving  in  front  of  a  small  one-story  frame  dwelling,  situate  a 
little  back  from  the  road,  the  builder  was  seen  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  stand- 
ing with  a  table  before  him.  Shortly  he  began  walking  back  and  forth  ; 
then  he  would  stop  and  look  at  something  on  the  table,  and  take  a 
pencil  he  had  in  his  mouth  and  point  at  the  something  on  the  table ;  then 
he  would  resume  his  walk,  only  to  stop  again  and  look  at  the  table. 
How  long  this  had  been  kept  up,  is  hard  to  say,  but  it  is  fair  to  presume 
for  nearly  all  day.  Finally  the  adjuster  opened  the  gate  and  walked  up 
to  the  house,  knocked  and  was  invited  to  enter.  On  going  into  the  room 
his  curiosity  was  excited  to  see  what  was  on  the  table  which  had  inter- 
ested the  occupant  so  greatly.  Imagine  the  surprise  when  it  turned  out 
to  be  only  a  large  piece  of  brown  paper  spread  over  the  table,  a  steel 
square  and  a  straight  line  drawn  on  the  paper.  Desirous  of  knowing 
how  the  builder  was  progressing,  the  adjuster  asked  him  how  he  was 
getting  along,  and  was  rewarded  with  the  encouraging  reply,  "Splend- 
idly; I've  got  the  base  line  drawn ;"  at  the  same  time  pointing  to  the 
straight  line  on  the  paper  in  a  sort  of  triumphant  way. 

Mr.  Editor,  I  will  assure  you  it  was  extremely  difficult  to  refrain  from 
smiling  audibly.  Not  wishing,  however,  to  wound  the  feelings  of  the 
party,  the  adjuster  proceeded  to  give  the  builder  the  benefit  of  his 
figures,  and  in  an  hour  the  estimate  was  made  and  written  out  by  the 
adjuster.  When  asked  for  his  bill,  the  builder  and  contractor  said  it  was 
$10.  To  this  a  demurrer  was  made,  the  adjuster  wanting  to  know  what 


22  THE    KNAPSACK     1881 


his  regular  charge  was  for  a  day's  work.  Was  informed  that  it  was  $3.50, 
but  he  thought  his  superior  knowledge  as  a  builder  should  entitle  him  to 
the  full  amount.  He  reluctantly  took  $5,  and  no  doubt  often  wishes  for 
opportunities  to  earn  a  V  so  easily. 

Yours,  etc.,  S. 


A    LITTLE   TALK    TO    SPECIAL    AGENTS. 

WHEN  one  attempts  to  talk  on  a  subject  of  common  interest  touch- 
ing our  business,  there  are  so  many  heads  of  subjects  springing 
up  that  bewilderment  follows.  There  is  so  much  to  say,  so 
much  that  ought  to  be  said  in  clear,  ringing  tones,  which  would  find  their 
way  to  each  one,  and  wake  him  up.  It  is  common  for  our  members  to 
tell  the  wrongs  we  know  of  and  do  not  mend— it  is  so  common  that  if  it 
were  not  told  we  would  wonder.  Yet  here  we  meet  each  year,  and, 
having  read  the  lesson,  go  our  way,  quickened,  but  unheeding.  Why  is 
this?  Do  we  not  take  pride  in  the  fact  that  our  business  draws  its  rank 
and  file  from  the  best  stock  in  the  land?  Is  not  society,  art,  literature, 
strengthened  by  the  workers  in  our  profession?  Let  me  confine  myself 
to  one  suggestion :  The  simple  fact  is  here— there  is  no  good  faith 
among  us.  East,  West,  North  and  South,  the  same  charge  is  made — no 
good  faith. 

I  fear  me  it  is  true.  It  springs  from  cowardice,  nothing  less — moral 
cowardice.  The  will  power  which  carries  us  through  danger  and  trial  in 
all  else  falters  and  is  weak  in  this.  My  friends,  let  us  mend  it ;  let  us  talk 
less  and  do  more ;  let  us  make  a  start— let  the  year  1881  mark  this  step, 
viz :  Having  each  in  his  own  mind  fixed  the  way  to  bring  good  faith  into 
the  business,  follow  it,  stick  to  it. 

You  are  the  managers  of  the  future — before  long  you  will  guide  and 
teach  others.  Teach  correct  practice;  observe  it  that  you  may  teach. 
Whatever  the  condition  of  things,  keep  faith.  Do  not  agree  to  a  com- 
pact until  you  are  ready ;  if  you  promise,  keep  it ;  when  your  are  ready 
to  break  the  compact,  let  it  be  known ;  release  yourself  openly. 

Let  us  think  less  of  our  neighbors'  business.  Each  one  of  us  is  a 
neighbor — each  one  can  take  heed  for  himself.  In  all  the  town,  is  there 
another  business  worked  by  men— gentlemen — where  a  mere  rumor  of 
bad  faith  does  such  harm? 

Is  it  because  of  the  willing  ear?  Already  this  Association  has  done 
much — so  much  that  the  special  agent  is  on  terms  of  cordial  friendship 
with  his  brother  special ;  so  much  that  strife,  and  sarcasm,  and  ill  feeling 


THE    KNAPSACK     1881  2) 


has  melted  away,  and  a  spirit  of  unity  is  found  in  its  place.  What  is 
possible  in  the  adjustment  of  losses  is  possible  in  the  field  and  in  the 
office.  Let  the  past  go ;  work  faithfully  for  the  present ;  the  future  will 
be  here  soon  enough — too  soon  for  all. 


COMMISSIONS. 

[Written  for  the  Knapsack.} 

The  morning  mists  were  fading  fast, 
As  through  a  mountain  village  passed 
A  traveling  agent,  early  bird, 
Who  uttered  low  the  magic  word 

"Commissions." 

His  form  was  bent,  his  haggard  face 
Showed  traces  of  an  ancient  race, 
While  ever  as  he  strode  along, 
He  muttered  in  a  well-known  tongue, 
"Commissions." 

Touch  not  that  mill,  the  "local"  said, 
The  ' '  lead  "  is  "  petered  out ' '  and  ' '  dead ' ' ; 
The  moral  risk  is  something  "snide  "  ; 
But  still  that  anxious  voice  replied, 

"Commissions." 

Oh,  stay !  the  Piute  maiden  said, 
And  rest  awhile  your  weary  head ; 
A  wink  lurked  in  his  dexter  eye, 
But  still  he  whispered  with  a  sigh, 

"Commissions." 

At  midnight  hour  as  homeward  sped 
Two  jolly  miners  to  their  bed, 
Bright  flames  leaped  forth  with  lurid  glare, 
Reflecting  through  the  murky  air, 

"Commissions." 

Morn  on  the  ashes  warm  and  gray, 
Disclosed  the  traveler  miles  away ; 
While  from  the  "local"  standing  near, 
A  voice  came  with  a  hearty  cheer, 

"Commissions!" 

BUZITE 


24  THE    KNAPSACK     1881 


A    MOTTO    FOR    AN    INSURANCE    MAN. 

My  friends,  we  have  met  in  our  own  social  way, 

Where  all  may  be  happy,  you  know ; 
But  whilst  music  and  wine  make  us  gladsome  and  gay, 

We'll  think  of  the  duties  we  owe— 
We'll  drink  to  the  Mends  who  have  ever  been  kind, 

Who  will  stand  by  us  all  when  they  can, 
Advice  in  my  song  JTOU  will  certainly  find, 

And  a  motto  for  an  insurance  man. 

CHORUS — So  we'e  will  sing  and  banish  melancholy ; 

Troubles  may  come,  we'll  do  the  best  we  can 
To  drive  dull  care  away,  for  grieving  is  a  folly, 
Put  your  shoulder  to  the  wheel 
Is  a  motto  for  an  insurance  man. 

In  our  business  pursuits,  when  troubles  arise, 

Our  principle  is  to  adjust — 
To  act  on  the  square  is  prudent  and  wise, 

Each  brother  in  business  to  trust : 
The  merits  of  each  we  rate  at  the  best, 

Their  exposure  we  gladly  hide. 
Nor  seek  for  a  fault  in  the  East  or  the  West, 

In  faith  with  each  brother  abide. 

Nor  can  we  forget  our  adjusters  and  specials, 

Their  trips  and  their  troubles  are  legion ; 
We  have  seen  not  a  few  hang  on  to  a  trestle, 

Or  the  limb  of  a  tree  grimly  freeze  on. 
On  the  road  they  are  known  as  the  stage-drivers'  friend  ; 

Oft  times  they  have  carried  the  stage 
Their  grit  and  their  shoulders,  if  ever  they  bend, 

'Tis  sorrow  and  care  to  assuage. 

We  know  what  hard  fare  and  rough  tack  they  must  take 

When  traveling  a  loss  to  report. 
To-day,  chills  and  ague ;  to-morrow,  an  ache ; 

On  duty  each  hardship  they  court; 
They'll  fight  to  the  death  for  justice  and  right, 

Nor  do  they  forget  the  assured ; 
Their  duty  they  do  making  sad  hearts  light, 

When  fair  play  is  fairly  secured. 


THE    KNAPSACK      1881 


We  drink  to  the  health  of  our  chieftains  all, 

For  jolly  good  fellows  are  they ; 
Though  fat  and  at  ease  they  answer  each  call, 

And  their  losses  with  promptness  pay  ; 
We'll  drink  to  our  aids  and  our  brokers  too  ; 

No  small  share  of  the  work  is  theirs 
Though  some  time  proposed  to  cut  rates  'tis  true, 

But  we  all  have  our  troubles  and  cares. 

And  whilst  we  are  glad  and  our  wine  cups  are  full 

Let  us  drink  to  our  home  offices  too  ; 
They  are  men  we  esteem,  and  never  will  pull 

A  man  who  his  duty  will  do. 
They  have  stood  by  us  all  when  calamity  came 

And  strengthened  us  every  one ; 
And  when  our  slight  faults  they  have  honestly  blamed, 

'Twas  kindly  and  gently  done. 

And  now,  old  friends,  let  us  drink  to  ourselves, 

Our  homes  and  our  household  gods, 
To  our  wives  and  our  sweethearts,  the  dear  little  ones, 

Against  the  world  we  give  them  the  odds. 
Whilst  we  gladden  their  hearts  we  gladden  the  world ; 

For  gladness  is  catching,  you  know ; 
So  up  with  your  glasses  love's  banner  unfurled, 

We'll  drink  to  them  all  ere  we  go. 

W.  J.  CALLINGHAM. 

And  now,  comrades,  having  opened  the  Knapsack  for  your  inspec- 
tion, and  showed  you  the  good  things  in  the  Haversack,  we  will  husband 
what  further  ammunition  we  have,  and  take  a  pull  together  at  the  old 
canteen  when  we  meet  around  the  festive  board  to-morrow  evening, 
where  neither  rebates  nor  "commissions"  will  trouble  us;  and,  trusting 
the  "consolation"  we'll  draw  from  the  occasion  will  long  be  remembered, 
I  beg  to  roll  my  blankets,  buckle  my  knapsack,  and  "close  up"  gen- 
erally. C.  MASON  KINNE,  Editor. 


26  THE    KNAPSACK      1882 


CALIFORNIA  KNAPSACK. 

VOL  i.  No.  3. 

C.  MASON  KINNE,  Manager.  GEO.  F.  GRANT,  Associate. 


The  following  circular  was  dispatched  to  each  member  of  the  Asso- 
ciation : 

EDITORIAL  ROOMS,  422  CALIFORNIA  ST.,  \ 
San  Francisco,  Jan.  28,  1882.     / 
MR. 

Dear  Sir: — Once  more  the  demand  for  "copy"  goes  out  to  our 
patrons,  and  as  an  inducement  for  the  brightest  scintillation  of  wit  and 
sparkle  of  talent,  the  associate  editor  has  provided  a  valuable  testimonial, 
which  he  offers  as  a  prize  for  the  best  article  which  may  grace  our  columns. 

There  is  also  an  admonition  with  our  demand  this  year  to  the  effect 
that  some  of  the  latent  talent,  which  as  yet  has  not  unearthed  itself,  must 
come  to  the  front  or  there  will  be  a  court  martial  of  two  or  three  that  we 
have  our  managerial  eye  upon. 

Between  the  above  intimation  of  reward  and  punishment  there  is  a 
broad  highway  of  peace  and  happiness  leading  down  to  our  editorial 
sanctum,  which  you  should  travel  with  steps  of  pride,  and  it  must  be  a 
cold  day  when  you  cannot  provide  something  in  the  way  of  anecdote, 
personal  reminiscence,  or  views  on  various  insurance  points. 

All  manuscripts  to  be  handed  in  not  later  than  Feb.  15,  1882. 
Fraternally, 

C.  MASON  KINNE,  Manager. 


TO  OUR  PATRONS. 

Another  year  has  rolled  around,  adding  more  gray  hairs  and 
wrinkles  to  the  heads  and  features  of  all  of  us,  but  the  bright  smiles  and 
warm  hearts  are  as  youthful  as  ever. 

As  to  the  specials  and  adjusters,  of  course,  we  ought  not  to  grow  old. 
With  good  salaries,  nothing  to  do  but  travel  about  in  the  palace  car,  dine 
at  the  best  hotels  and  amuse  ourselves  for  an  hour  or  two  in  some 
pleasant  village  talking  to  our  agent,  or  pleasing  our  claimant  by  paying 


THE    KNAPSACK     1882  27 


him  all  he  asks,  is  certainly  not  very  wearing  work,  from  the  average 
manager's  stand-point. 

But  at  all  events  we  are  here  to-day,  forgetful  of  expense  account,  of 
stage  coach  and  buckboard,  of  dust  and  rain,  of  hash  and  hasheries,  of 
dead  towns  and  lying  claimants.  We  are  not  worrying  over  ambiguous 
contracts,  non-concurrent  policies  or  excessive  profits  sweeping  a  just 
salvage  out  of  sight,  but  looking  into  each  other's  faces,  bearing  such  an 
imprint  of  honest  devotion  to  strict  business  principles  as  preclude  the 
thought  that  you  would  go  for  each  other's  best  agent  to-morrow,  if  you 
got  a  chance.  For  one  day  at  least  we  are  brothers  in  the  true  sense  of 
fraternal  business  relations  and  can  let  each  other  see  the  better  and  more 
unselfish  side  of  our  natures. 

But  as  the  meat  of  these  meetings  is  expected  to  be  found  in  the 
reports  of  committees  and  addresses  of  members,  it  is  only  the  purpose 
of  the  Knapsack  to  give  it  a  flavor,  add  a  certain  amount  of  pleasing 
aroma  to  the  solids  and  an  enticing  bouquet  to  the  fluids. 

Speaking  of  things  gastronomically,  reminds  us  that  our  associate 
editor  will  have  to  see  that  the  Knapsack  is  properly  supplied  with  rations 
at  the  contemplated  raid  on  the  commissary,  as  stem  duty  calls  the 
manager  in  another  direction.  We  are  sorry  for  this,  for  even  insurance 
men  appreciate  the  necessity  of  well-appointed  kitchens,  and,  with  the 
rest  of  mankind,  believe  that  Owen  Meredith  is  right  in  saying: 

"We  may  live  without  poetry,  music  and  art; 
We  may  live  without  conscience,  and  live  without  heart; 
We  may  live  without  friends ;  we  may  live  without  books ; 
But  civilized  man  cannot  live  without  cooks. 
He  may  live  without  books — what  is  knowledge  but  grieving  ? 
He  may  live  without  hope — what  is  hope  but  deceiving? 
He  may  live  without  love — what  is  passion  but  pining? 
But  where  is  the  man  that  can  live  without  dining?" 

C.  MASON  KINNE,  Editor. 


ABOUT    BRINGING    GOOD    INTO    THE    BUSINESS. 

If  experience  teaches  anything,  it  teaches  us  that  a  mighty  change 
is  taking  place  in  our  business.  Observe  the  insurance  literature  of 
to-day.  It  is  plain,  pithy  and  free  to  all.  Printed  instructions  now 
mean  just  what  is  said,  whereas  in  those  elder  days  the  bewildered 
student  construed  ambiguous  sentences  which  intimated  more  than  they 
expressed  and  gave  wide  margin  for  varied  opinion.  The  agent  of  to-day 


28  THE   KNAPSACK     1882 


is  made.  Instances  have  ceased  of  adjusters  springing  full-fledged  into 
the  field  and  gaining  laurels  off-hand  without  the  drill  of  preparation. 
The  leader  of  the  future  is  grinding  at  his  desk,  giving  ten  good  hours  of 
conscientious  work  for  a  consideration.  There  is  a  change  in  the  hazard 
created  by  new  machinery,  new  appliances,  experiment  and  invention. 
This  changes  the  rate  and  alters  the  nature  of  exposures.  The  tone  of 
the  business  is  changed ;  it  has  gained  dignity  and  importance.  In  our 
intercourse,  one  with  the  other,  there  is  no  longer  the  "mental  reserva- 
tion"— a  promise  of  to-day  has  a  value  on  the  street.  I  do  not  claim  this 
as  a  moral  reform.  Said  Hamlet  to  the  Queen,  "Assume  a  virtue  if  you 
have  it  not."  There  is  a  change.  On  the  bench,  and  in  the  jury-box, 
cases  are  not  lacking  where  the  verdict  rendered  in  accordance  with  law 
and  evidence  is  in  favor  of  the  defendant.  Authorities  are  multiplying 
from  decisions  in  various  courts  which  have  felt  constrained  to  mete  out 
even-handed  justice  and  defeat  the  schemes  of  evil-minded  ones  whose 
claim  is  based  on  false  representation.  These  changes  suggest  this 
lesson :  keep  abreast  of  the  time  in  which  we  live ;  keep  step  with  the 
march  of  progress.  It  will  bring  good  into  the  business. 

There  are  endless  questions  concerning  a  variety  of  topics  which 
rise  to  the  lips  and  get  no  farther.  Ask  plenty  of  questions,  but  apply  to 
the  right  source.  The  freshman  is  timid  and  has  good  fear  of  being  set 
back  by  his  elders.  The  sophomore  is  big  with  importance  and  chaff — 
above  criticism,  yet  ever  sensitive.  The  junior  is  your  true  mentor,  for 
he  is  mellow  with  study,  patient,  having  sympathy  for  a  plodding  brother. 
The  senior — (take  heed  least  you  forget  that  he  is  the  senior ! )  his  knowl- 
edge is  for  himself  and  his  livelihood  ;  yet  in  a  community  no  larger  than 
our  own  it  should  be  no  difficult  matter  to  get  below  the  surface  even  of 
one  having  authority  and  gain  information  of  a  general  nature.  As  I  look 
through  the  list,  I  find  those  who  stand  best  in  the  good  opinion  of  the 
profession  are  not  miserly  of  their  thoughts.  Thoughts ! — it  is  a  great 
gift,  thinking.  Few  of  us  get  farther  in  it  than  to  think  we  think ;  for,  to 
be  a  legitimate  thinker,  is  to  be  one  picked  out  of  a  thousand.  All  but 
idiots  have  minds  that  reflect,  like  a  more  or  less  perfect  mirror,  what 
they  see,  read  or  hear ;  to  the  few  is  given  the  power  to  invent  by  mental 
process,  to  analyze  criticism.  Next  to  thinking,  and  as  an  aid  to  thought, 
questions  come  naturally  and  spontaneously.  Questions  provoke  discus- 
sion, and  discussion  fixes  ideas.  If  you  are  pertinently  in  earnest  in  your 
business,  you  will  find  other  earnest  men  ready  to  meet  you  on  fair 
ground. 

It  is  the  latest  popular  custom  at  meetings  of  this  kind  to  comment 
on  the  faithful,  hard-working  "Local,"  to  weave  for  his  brow  a  chaplet, 


THE    KNAPSACK      1882  29 


to  portray  his  virtues  even  to  the  border  of  sentiment.  He  is  deserving 
of  it  all,  and  more.  I  have  thought  of  him,  and  wish  to  offer  a  suggestion 
for  the  consideration  of  this  meeting.  It  is  only  a  suggestion,  for  it  is  out 
of  the  common  routine  and  wide  open  to  criticism.  My  plan  is  to  collect 
together  at  a  convenient  time  and  place  the  local  agents  of  the  Coast  in 
convention,  for  the  purpose  of  mutual  exchange  of  ideas,  and  mutual 
benefit,  all  for  the  advancement  of  insurance  and  to  bring  good  into  the 

business. 

GEO.  F.  GRANT, 

Associate  Editor. 

And  now,  gentlemen,  we'll  thrust  our  hand  deeper  into  the  recesses 
of  our  pack,  and  see  what  we  shall  bring  forth  of  the  good  things  stored 
away. 

CIRCUMSTANCES    ALTER    CASES. 

SCENE,  a  large  clothing  store.  Proprietor,  Mr.  Moses,  behind 
counter.  Enter  to  him  a  gent  with  a  book  under  his  arm. 

Moses  (aside) — Ah !  here  gomes  that  damned  assessor ;  I'll  fix  him ! 
(To  gent) — Goot  mornin,  my  frent.  How  you  vos  dis  fine  day? 

Gent — Oh,  very  well,  thank  you.  You  have  a  fine,  large  store  here. 
Big  stock  of  goods,  too.  Now,  I  wonder  what  amount  of  stock  you 
must  keep  on  hand  to  fill  so  large  a  building  ? 

Moses — My  frent,  not  so  much  as  you  dinks.  You  see  dimes  is  hard 
and  trade  is  very  pad.  I  joost  sell  noting  at  all,  so  help  me,  Gott.  But 
von  must  make  a  goot  show,  you  know,  so  you  see  dese  goats,  dese 
pants,  dese  vests  (handling  them),  all  sheep  goots ;  not  much  money  in 
dem.  All  spread  out  zo  as  to  make  goot  show,  but  not  much  vort. 
Times  never  vas  zo  pad ;  I  never  sells  noting.  Yesterday  von  dam  Irish- 
man gome  in  and  he  says  to  me,  Moses,  vot  you  ask  for  dem  goats?  I 
show  him  mein  goats  and  pants  and  vests — one  kind,  anoder  kind,  every 
kind — but  he  shtay  here  one  half  hour,  never  say  one  word  while  I  try  all 
I  knows  to  sell  him  a  goat  or  someding.  Bymeby  he  says,  "Veil,  Moses, 
times  is  bad  and  goots  is  low,  I  vant  one  goat.  Sho  you  just  gome  mit 
me  to  der  saloon  across  der  shtreet  and  treat  me  to  von  brandy  smash, 
and  I  makes  you  an  offer  for  de  goat."  And  ven  I  go  and  dreat  him  vat 
does  de  dam  rascal  do?  He  just  wipe  his  mouth  on  der  sleeve  so,  and  he 
valk  right  away,  and  never  make  me  no  offer  at  all !  And  dats  der  only 
customer  vot  gomes  in  dese  dree  days. 

Gent — Well,  I'd  just  like  to  know  about  how  much  coin  it  takes  to 
stock  such  a  store.  Say,  how  much,  Moses?  Perhaps  I'd  like  to  go  into 
the  business  myself. 


30  THE    KNAPSACK     1882 


Moses — Veil,  mine  frent,  I  am  an  honest  man,  and  I  tell  you  the 
truth,  so  help  me,  Gott !  Dere  is  just  nine  hundred  and  forty  dollars  in 
de  shtore ! 

Gent — Nine  hundred  and  forty  dollars !  Why,  man,  what  are  you  talk- 
ing about?  Why,  it  is  only  six  weeks  ago  you  'told  me  you  had  thirty 
thousand  dollars'  worth,  and  do  you  forget  I  am  the  broker  who  insured 
you  for  twenty  thousand  ? 

Moses — Oh,  you  bees  de  insurance  man !  Veil,  I  vos  one  d — n  fool 
not  to  know  you  again !  I  taut  you  vas  dat  d — d  assessor,  and  you  know 
dose  fellows  just  rob  a  pusiness  man — rob  him — rob  him  all  de  time.  So 
I  fix  up  de  goots  for  de  assessor,  you  see.  But  you  bees  de  insurance 
man !  Gome,  I  show  you  dat  I  am  an  honest  man.  You  knows  I  been 
insured  mit  dose  gompanies  five  year,  and  I  vas  burnt  out  only  dree 
times.  You  know  I  am  an  honest  man.  Gome  !  (Takes  the  gent  down 
stairs.)  Dere,  you  see  all  dem  goots,  I  takes  no  advantage  of  the  insur- 
ance !  Dere,  my  friend,  I  gif  you  my  word  dere  is  dirty  tousand  tollars' 
vort  of  goots,  and  you  insure  me  only  dwenty  tousand,  you  know.  Mein 
Gott,  vat  a  fool  I  vas  to  take  you  for  dat  d — d  assessor ! 

Gent  (taking  out  his  book) — All  right,  Moses ;  I  assess  you  for  thirty 
thousand  dollars. 

Moses — Vat  you  say?  You  bees  the  assessor  and  de  insurance  man, 
too  ?  Mein  Gott,  for  what  you  not  tell  me  you  change  your  peesiness  ? 

So  help  me You  bees  one  d — d  rascal  to  sheet  an  honest  man  like 

dat?  Vot  for  you  play  such  d — d  tricks  to  rob  a  poor  man.  D n ! ! 

Gent — Good  morning,  Mr.  Moses.  Next  time  be  sure  of  your  man 
before  you  show  your  hand.  Remember,  it's  a  bad  rule  that  won't  work 
both  ways.  [Exit.] 


WATER    PRIVILEGES. 

IT  is  said,  once  upon  a  time,  that  our  good  friend  who  now  leads  a 
lion  about  by  the  mane,  waiting  for  the  sexton's  bell  to  ring  him  to  his 
meal  off  the  agents  scooped  in  from  the  field,  did,  in  his  first  trip  for  and 
under  the  tuition  of  the  "general,"  proceed  to  Truckee,  and  soon  there- 
after forward  to  the  said  "general"  agent  an  application  for  insurance 
that  he  had  worked  into  shape,  and  which  included,  among  other  items, 
certain  amounts  on  a  Turbine  water-wheel,  and  also  on  the  dam. 

All  was  satisfactory  from  the  company's  stand-point  for  some  two  or 
three  years,  when  the  assured  began  to  think  that  to  pay  the  premium  for 
insurance  on  a  pile  of  logs  with  twenty  feet  of  water  behind  and  running 
over  it,  was  not  profitable — to  him — and  so  cut  it  out  of  the  next  renewal. 


THE    KNAPSACK      1882 


The  dam  is  there  yet,  with  the  silvery  sheet  of  water  still  flashing 
back  the  rays  of  bright  sunlight ;  all  of  which  goes  to  show  that  Dornin 
always  did  believe  that  the  best  of  anything  was  good  enough  for  him ; 
but  this  not  being  satisfied  with  writing  on  the  water-wheel,  but  must  go 
for  the  dam  also,  is  a  little  too  gilt-edged  entirely. 

REGISTER    EARLY. 

INSURANCE  men  are  ever  on  the  alert  for  circumstantial  evidence 
and  it  is  not  strange  that  their  wives,  by  association,  should  exhibit 
a  similar  tendency.  A  case  in  point  recently  occurred  when  Win- 
some William,  of  San  Jose,  stopped  over  night  in  the  city  for  the  purpose 
of  criticising,  in  company  with  his  friend  Carpenter,  the  fire  hazard  of  a 
spectacular  play.  Mr.  C.,  who  then  did  his  regular  sleeping  on  the  other 
side  of  the  bay,  left  his  satchel  at  the  hotel  where  both  were  to  stop,  early 
in  the  day  and  registered,  but  as  William  never  thinks  of  carrying  any 
baggage  for  a  trip  of  less  than  a  week's  duration,  he  had  no  occasion  to 
visit  the  hotel  until  his  dazzled  eyes  and  excited  brain  sought  rest,  after 
the  calcium  light  had  cast  its  last  reflections  on  the  Amazons,  and  the 
theatrical  fairy  had  kicked  her  last  kick.  It  was,  therefore,  a  little  dif- 
ficult for  him,  or  any  one  else,  to  tell  whether  he  made  his  hotel  registry 
"last  night  or  to-morrow  morning." 

The  next  night,  having  descended  from  the  delectable  mountains  of 
San  Francisco  burlesque  to  the  dead  level  of  domestic  San  Jose,  he  was 
expatiating  on  the  glories  of  the  previous  evening,  when  his  wife,  in  as 
casual  a  manner  as  circumstances  and  a  remarkable  self-control  would 
permit,  asked: 

"Where  did  you  stop?" 

"Oh,  Carpenter  and  I  staid  at  the  Lick  House." 

"You  did?  Well,  here  is  a  copy  of  this  morning's  Chronicle,  in 
which  I  find  Mr.  Carpenter's  name  in  the  list  of  guests,  but  I  don't  find 
yours." 

William  doesn't  often  take  a  back-set,  but  he  was  non-plussed  in  this 
instance,  and  when  his  name  appeared  in  due  form  in  the  next  issue,  he 
felt  that  he  lay  himself  open  to  the  suspicion  of  having  "seen"  the  news- 
paper man.  He  now  makes  it  a  rule  to  register  before  dark,  so  that  his 
name  may  get  in  the  book  in  time  for  the  next  morning's  paper.  Not 
having  much  hair  to  lose,  his  practical  good  sense  as  an  adjuster  teaches 
him  that  the  salvage  of  that  which  he  has,  more  than  offsets  any  financial 
loss  resulting  from  the  payment  for  a  night's  lodging  six  hours  in 
advance.  C. 


'THE    KNAPSACK     1882 


A    DREAM. 

For  a  whole  year  past,  since  the  agents  found  out 

That  adjusters  and  specials  were  safe  without  doubt, 

Their  minds  have  been  greatly  perplexed 

As  to  what  in  the  future  will  be  their  fate, 

If  they  too  can  pass  through  the  heavenly  gate 

When  they  go  from  this  world  to  the  next. 

Now,  in  order  to  set  troubled  minds  at  rest, 
And  to  aid  them  in  settling  their  anxious  quest, 

I  will  tell  you  a  little  dream 
That  came  to  me  one  night  as  I  slept, 
And  worried  me  so  that  I  fairly  wept, 

So  real  did  it  seem. 

Methought  I  stood  by  the  little  door 
St.  Peter  watches  so  carefully  o'er, 

And  looking  the  wicket  through, 
Found  a  goodly  company  in  sight 
Who  seemed  to  think  surely  they  were  all  right, 

And  many  of  them  I  knew. 

There  were  Flint  and  Spencer  with  Capt.  Magill, 
Firmly  marching  straight  up  the  hill, 

And  close  behind  them  came 
Jacobs  and  Easton,  Haven  and  Pope, 
Faces  beaming  with  pleasure  and  hope, 

With  others  that  I  could  name. 

Following  them  in  unbroken  rank 

Came  Hamilton,  Dickson,  Hunt  and  Frank, 

Andrew  Smith  and  Chas.  R.  Story, 
Carpenter,  Bromwell  and  Landers,  too, 
All  looking  as  happy  as  if  they  knew 

They  were  on  the  road  to  glory. 

Brown  and  Bailey,  Syz  and  Grant, 
Naunton  and  Butler,  looking  askant 

At  the  Lion  led  by  Dornin. 
Potter,  Jones  and  Farnsworth  came  in  sight 
With  Laton  and  Speyer,  looking  as  bright 

As  a  beautiful  May  morning. 


THE    KNAPSACK      1882 

But  Peter  said — "  Ere  I  unlock  these  gates 

You  must  each  assure  me  you  have  never  cut  rates 

Also  explain  your  position 

On  the  troublesome  subject  which  all  of  you  know 
Has  made  such  '  bobbery '  there  below — 

The  matter  of  commission." 

"  If  while  on  earth  you  can  truthfully  say 
That  you  kept  your  agreements  every  day, 

And  did  not  once  deviate ; 

Ne'er  around  the  stump  have  the  devil  whipped, 
Nor  in  any  way  from  the  right  path  slipped, 

I  will  hasten  and  open  the  gate." 

I  saw  that  they  all  seemed  perfectly  dazed, 
And  mournfully  on  each  other  gazed, 

And  sadly  they  turned  away, 
Save  one,  who  could  stand  the  required  test ; 
I  could  give  his  name,  if  I  thought  it  best, 

But  prefer  that  you  should  say. 


COMMUNICATION. 

PORTLAND,  Oregon. 

EDITOR  Knapsack — So  many  good  things  will  be  offered  you,  that 
my  mite  will,  I  fear,  not  be  entitled  to  even  a  place  in  the  outside,  with 
the  panikin. 

Things  don't  hopper  much  in  Oregon  to  adjusters.  Railroads  in 
which  accidents  are  not  allowed  to  occur  run  to  all  the  towns  where  fires 
occur.  Sleepers  are  common.  The  dangerous  streams  are  all  bridged. 
Where  railroads  are  not  built,  magnificent  steamers  ascend  the  smallest 
rivers  to  their  very  source,  or  Concord  coaches,  drawn  by  elegant  horses 
over  macadamized  roads,  carrying  you  smoothly  along.  The  highway 
robbers  have  all  joined  the  church;  the  Indians  have  become  rational 
beings,  and  only  go  on  the  war  path  when  Uncle  Sam's  grub  gives  out, 
and  though  occasionally  you  meet  a  "buck-board,"  the  bucking  horses 
have  all  been  broke  to  ladies'  use ;  and  so  I  cannot,  like  my  California 
brethern,  give  you  very  blood-curdling  adventures. 

A  snow  blockade  of  ten  (10)  days — having  to  keep  moving  for  thirty 
hours  to  keep  from  freezing—  no  grub  to  pass  the  time ;  ascending  rivers 
in  a  crazy  Indian  canoe  with  only  Indians  for  companions — where  every 


)4  THE    KNAPSACK     1882 


sharp  bend  in  the  river  had  its  legend  of  drowned  miners — these  things, 
while  adding  spice  to  the  usual  dullness  of  Oregon  life,  are  of  course 
mere  trifles  to  those  who  travel  in  the  wilds  of  California.  I  therefore 
spare  you  details. 

I  recently  met  an  adjuster  who  thought  I  was  a  Californian,  who  gave 
me  the  following,  which  I  forward  as  a  contribution  from  a  wild  untutored 
Oregonian. 

A  LEGEND  OF  THE   RHINE(o). 

In  a  beautiful  country,  where  everything  is  evergreen,  because  the 
sun  never  comes  out  to  dry  the  pearly  rain  drop  which  comes  with  de- 
lightful regularity,  is  located  a  beautiful  city,  grown  fat  with  wealth  and 
prosperity.  The  city  is  beautifully  situated  on  a  magnificent  river,  broad 
and  deep.  The  country  is  called  Oregon,  and  it  is  supposed  that  the  dirt 
with  which  it  was  built  came  from  Ireland.  One  thing  is  certain,  no 
poisonous  snake  or  reptile  is  found  on  its  western  slope. 

The  people  do  not  speak  Irish,  but  the  oldest  inhabitants,  the  first 
families,  speak  a  "jargon.'  The  people  are  known  as  "Webfeet." 
This  name  was  given  to  them  by  the  first  Californian  who  came,  who  sup- 
posed they  were  aquatic,  because  they  found  their  nests  so  well  feathered. 
The  people  generally  took  things  very  easy,  making  money  without  effort, 
but  in  the  days  I  write  of,  existed  on  a  well-known  class  who  were  an  ex- 
ception to  the  general  rule.  They  were  known  as  insurance  agents. 
Existed,  I  say,  because  at  present  the  race  is  extinct,  nearly.  They  were 
so  active  and  energetic  that  they  were  a  source  of  great  annoyance  to  the 
old  business  fraternity,  who  didn't  believe  in  activity  and  enterprise. 
Every  one  supposed  they  were  getting  rich,  but  people  were  not  aware  of 
the  goodness  of  heart  and  generosity  of  these  agents,  for,  while  they 
were  supposed  to  be  making  large  commissions,  some  of  them  were 
secretly  returning  all  their  profits  to  the  needy  persons  buying  insurance 
from  them.  Such  generosity  should  have  brought  its  own  reward.  It 
did.  A  disease  called  the  "rebate"  broke  out  among  them  and  became 
epidemic.  When  the  disorder  was  at  its  height,  a  meeting  of  all  the 
agents  was  called  to  devise  means  to  arrest  its  progress.  One  peculiarity 
of  the  disease  was,  that  everyone  thought  himself  the  only  one  free  from 
it.  After  many  plans  were  suggested,  some  one  said  that  there  was  a 
fiddler  in  town  who  could  cure  any  disease  by  the  magic  of  his  bow. 
Every  fellow  wanted  to  see  the  other  cured,  and  it  was  decided  to  employ 
him.  The  fiddler  made  the  rounds  of  the  offices,  playing  enchanting 
music ;  the  insurance  man  could  not  resist  the  bewitching  strains.  Prin- 
cipals and  clerks  followed  the  fiddler  until  every  one  in  the  business  had 


THE   KNAPSACK     1882 


joined  the  festive  procession.  The  fiddler  led  them  to  the  river  bank  and 
plunged  into  the  water,  still  playing;  all  followed — all,  save  one;  he  was 
an  adjuster  as  well  as  agent.  When  young  a  fairy  had  kindly  stood  for 
his  godmother,  and  had  given  him  a  charm  against  water;  some  people 
said  he  wasn't  born  to  be  drowned — water  didn't  agree  with  him.  He 
didn't  believe  in  the  water  cure,  so  took  a  ferry-boat  across  the  stream, 
expecting  to  meet  his  comrades  on  the  other  side.  Alas!  they  never 
came.  He  mourned  their  loss,  but  consoled  himself  with  the  reflection 
that  now  he  had  the  entire  field  to  himself,  and  would  do  a  smashing  busi- 
ness. Strange  to  say,  this  was  not  the  case.  People  quit  insuring,  and  it 
was  impossible  for  him  to  live  on  the  business,  and  he  was  obliged  to 
shovel  dirt  for  a  living.  On  being  asked  what  charm  the  music  had  for 
him,  he  said,  "I  thought  it  said,  'Come,  I  will  take  you  where  there  is  a 
gilt-edged  steam  planing  mill.  Well,  where  there  is  no  rebate.'  The 
man  has  just  arrived  from  California,  where  no  such  thing  is  known. 
Other  agents  don't  know  of  it,  because  the  lumber  is  not  on  the  ground 
yet."  X. 

"X"  is  a  little  mixed  in  his  metaphors,  but  the  moral  is  good. 


EDITOR  Knapsack :  Dear  Sir — To  supply  your  demand  for  copy,  we 
give  the  Association  the  benefit  of  three  letters  received  by  us  during  the 
past  few  days,  from  our  agents  at  different  points  on  the  Coast.  They 
merely  show  the  "stuff"  the  different  agents  are  made  of.  Our  best 
wishes  to  the  insurance  fraternity  is  that  every  company  doing  business 
had  an  agent  at  every  point  made  out  of  the  same  stuff  as  writer  of 
letter  No.  3. 

Yours  truly,  ,  Gen.  Agent. 

Letter  No.  i  is  from  one  of  our  agents,  who  having  failed  to  remit  for 
premiums  after  policies  had  been  in  force  three  or  four  months,  and  had 
failed  to  take  notice  of  at  least  two  accounts  sent  him,  was  gently  re- 
minded that  coin  was  wanted.  It  reads,  viz: 

,  February  15,  1882. 

MESSRS. :    Yours  of  the  loth  at  hand ;  contents  noted.    Now, 

in  regard  to  balance  due  you  of  $60,  nearly  one-half  of  it  is  for  my  own 
policy,  and  I  felt  you  could  well  afford  to  give  me  that,  or  at  least  wait 
until  I  could  pay  it ;  but  you  seem  to  be  in  such  a  hurry  about  it  that  I 
will  try  and  relieve  you  before  long — pay  up  and  quit  business.  I  have 
done  your  business  for  a  long  time,  and  as  I  supposed  satisfactory,  but  I 


36  THE  KNAPSACK     1882 

see  you  are  not  satisfied,  and  I  think  we  had  better  dissolve.  I  have 
been  urged  by  other  companies  to  do  business  for  them,  who  have  offered 
me  20  per  cent,  for  the  warehouse  insurance,  and  25  per  cent,  for  stand- 
ing grain.  They  are  good  reliable  Board  companies,  I  have  some 
money  due  me  next  month,  and  if  I  can  collect  it,  will  send  you  every 
cent  due,  and  also  all  the  books  and  papers  that  I  have  of  yours,  and  will 
try  my  hand  in  doing  business  for  other  companies. 

Yours,  etc. 

Letter  No.  2  is  from  an  agent  to  whom  we  had  returned  a  dwelling 
house  application  for  $150,  at  ^  per  cent.,  explaining  to  him  it  was  too 
small  a  premium  to  issue  a  policy  for.  It  reads,  viz  : 

,  February  18,  1882, 

MESSRS. :    Gentlemen — Yours  of  the  i2th  inst.  at  hand,  and 

will  say  that  you  have  placed  us  in  a  very  embarrassing  position.  We 
accepted  the  application  and  approved  it,  and  now  you  refuse  a  policy. 
We  are  compelled  to  insure  it  in  one  of  our  other  companies. 

We  are  perfectly  willing  to  listen  to  any  suggestions  you  may  wish  to 
make,  and  while  we  do  not  presume  to  dictate  the  manner  in  which  you 
should  do  your  business,  we  must  reserve  the  right  of  knowing  something 
of  ours,  and  with  all  due  respect,  we  think  we  are  better  able  to  judge 
applications  and  their  attending  circumstances  here  than  you  can  be  in 
San  Francisco. 

This  must  not  occur  again,  and  if  you  are  to  refuse  to  issue  policies 
when  we  ask  for  them,  unless  some  radical  error  exists  in  the  application, 
we  think  it  would  be  best  to  return  our  certificate. 

Yours  truly,  & 

NOTE.— It  has  been  suggested  that  we  keep  the  above  as  a  copy,  so  in  case  our 
companies  criticise  any  of  our  risks,  we  can  answer  in  same  terms  as  our  agent  has 
written. 

Letter  No.  3  is  from  an  agent,  it  is  a  pleasure  to  correspond  with,  and 
from  one  who  has  his  company's  welfare  at  heart.  It  is  in  answer  to  a 
rigid  questioning  regarding  moral  hazard  of  the  assured  under  one  of  his 
risks,  and  also  regarding  water  supply,  and  reads,  viz : 

,  Feb.  i9th,  1882. 

MESSRS. :     Gentlemen— Your  favor  of  i8th  at  hand,  and 

we  are  pleased  to  see  you  are  wide  awake  to  your  business  interests,  as 
there  is  no  better  guarantee  to  us  and  the  assured  of  stability  of  your 
agency,  and  that  our  clients  in Co.,  are  insured. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1882 


The  fire  of  December  13,  1881,  originated  in  the  building  adjoining 
Mr.  A,  and  there  was  not  the  slightest  question  of  moral  hazard.  His 
clerk,  a  most  estimable  young  man,  narrowly  escaped  cremation.  At 

that  time  Mr.  A  was  insured  in  the for  $2,000,  which  was  fully 

paid  after  six  days'  close  account  of  stock  by ,  adjuster.  Mr.  A  has 

a  family  here,  and  has  been  in  business  a  number  of  years. 

We  trust  you  will  accept  no  risk  from  us  that  you  are  not  perfectly 
satisfied  with  as  a  business  proposition.  If  it  is  not  a  proper  risk  for  our 
companies,  it  is  not  for  us,  and  we  would  prefer  to  refuse  it  altogether. 

A  committee  of  citizens  have  recently  chosen  sites  for  new  cisterns, 
which  are  in  place,  and  are  to  be  provided  with  5-inch  pipes  from  the 
mains,  and  have  taps  for  fastening  or  coupling  hose  to  the  pipe  in  the 
absence  of  engines. 

The  new  cisterns  are  small,  but  the  supply-pipe  is  supposed  to  furnish 
water  to  them  as  fast  as  the  engine  will  draw  it  off.  We  are  moving  to 
thoroughly  reorganize  for  the  summer  campaign.  The  main  pipe  of  the 
water  company  is  not  as  large  as  it  should  be,  and  in  case  of  a  large  fire, 
would  not  furnish  water  for  a  large  number  of  hydrants ;  but  we  are  aim- 
ing to  beat  the  common  enemy  at  the  threshold,  if  possible. 

"Capt."  Dimond,  of  the  Phoenix,  and  "Col."  Kinne,  of  the  L.  L.  & 
G.,  were  with  us  a  week,  recently,  and  from  them  you  may  obtain  infor- 
mation of  value.  Yours  truly,  . 


CAUSE  AND   EFFECT. 

A  fire  on  the  premises  of  Dr.  Port  at  Chollas  Valley,  near  San  Diego, 
Cal.,  destroyed  a  small  barn  or  cow-shed,  causing  a  damage  of  perhaps 
one  hundred  dollars.  The  fire  occurred  while  the  doctor  was  in  town, 
and  for  some  time  its  origin  was  a  complete  mystery.  Determined  to 
find  out,  if  possible,  how  it  occurred,  Dr.  Port  on  his  return  instituted  an 
investigation,  and  arrived  at  results  which  make  the  affair  one  of  the 
most  singular  we  have  ever  heard  of.  In  the  morning  some  brush  had 
been  burned  some  distance  from  the  barn,  and  when  the  doctor  left  home 
the  fire  had  ceased  to  burn — the  brush  being  all  consumed.  Among 
the  pets  on  the  place  is  a  fine  young  dog,  whose  chief  delight  is  to  chase 
the  numerous  colony  of  rabbits  (jacks  and  cottontails)  abounding  in  the 
valley.  Noticing  the  dog  to  be  quite  lame,  Dr.  P.  proceeded  to  make 
a  diagnosis  of  doggie  as  well  as  the  fire,  and  found  the  dog's  foot  to  be 
quite  badly  burned  between  the  toes,  which  led  the  doctor  to  follow 
up  his  "lead,"  by  which  it  was  doubtless  correctly  determined  that  the 
dog  had  been  in  pursuit  of  a  rabbit,  whose  flight  had  led  him  across  the 


38  THE   KNAPSACK     1882 


burned  patch  of  brush.  The  fire  was  apparently  all  out,  but  the  dog 
had  stepped  upon  a  small  smouldering  brand  which  became  fastened 
between  the  toes.  The  sensation  to  the  poor  dog  doubtless  made  him 
think  he  was  the  pursued  instead  of  pursuer,  and  "turning  tail "  he  fled 
for  home  and  jumped  the  fence  into  the  small  yard  adjoining  the  barn. 
The  yard  being  covered  with  loose  hay,  the  brand  became  detached  from 
the  dog's  foot  in  jumping  the  fence  and  fell  among  the  hay,  thus  setting 
fire  to  the  premises. 


SOME    INSURANCE    TALK    AT    A    COUNTRY    HOTEL. 

WE  were  sitting  before  a  roaring  fire  in  a  dimly  lighted  hotel  office. 
Office  by  courtesy  only,  for  it  answered  the  requirements  of  a 
bar  room,  trunk  room,  reading  room,  card  game  and  billiards. 
Not  to  forget  a  unique  affair  in  the  corner  for  lavatory  uses,  including 
three  yards  of  revolving  stuff  not  unlike  sand  paper  in  feeling,  while  to 
the  other  senses  it  was  an  ancient  and  fish-like  satire  on  Turkish  towel- 
ling. 

Outside,  rain  poured  gustily.  Inside,  dampness  penetrated.  An 
incessant  drip,  drip,  drip,  fell  on  the  ear  with  the  monotony  of  a  sad  heart- 
beat. 

We  had  the  room  to  ourselves  at  last,  discussing  points  of  adjustment 
and  what  not,  until  "Aretas"  straightened  himself,  and  was  delivered  of 
the  following:  "Gentlemen,  talk  about  total  depravity,  I  tell  you  the 
country  hotel  is  the  root  of  all  evil.  The  country  hotel  is  original  sin,  it 
is  the  father  of  cussedness,  and  the  nurse  of  crime.  Attacking  the  human 
victim  at  the  seat  of  intelligence,  the  stomach,  it  spreads  through  the 
entire  system,  leaving  it  a  hopeless  wreck.  We  eat,  we  drink,  what? 
Food,  in  its  primal  state  fit  for  gods  and  goddesses.  Fresh  from  gardens 
and  shambles,  rich,  juicy,  teeming  with  all  health-giving  qualities ;  but  in 
the  hands  of  that  arch  demon  who  rules  over  the  frying  pan  it  becomes  a 
substance,  a  variety  of  substances,  calculated  to  bring  a  nightmare  that 
will  attend  your  waking  moments.  A  peaceable  man  by  nature,  I  have 
seen  times  when  I  could  shed  blood,  could  dance  on  the  grave  of  my 
dearest  foe  with  maniac  glee,  all  because  of  the  leaden  substance  taken 
to  support  life,  and  familiar  to  your  ears  as  '  beef  steak,  mutton  chops, 
bacon  and  liver,  tea  or  coffee,'  and  as  for  the  drink,  infusion  of  penny- 
royal and  thorough  wort,  ground  beans  with  chicory.  I  hold  it  is  a 
crime,  a  punishable  crime." 

"Oh,  stop!"  said  "Gravely."  "These  extreme  and  extravagant 
words  destroy  the  very  argument.  I  admit  there  is  much  to  complain  of, 


THE   KNAPSACK     1882 


but  that  portly  form, '  Aretas ' — that  clear  eye  and  fresh  complexion — deny 
the  waking  nightmares.  I  concur  as  to  the  location  of  your  seat  of  intel- 
ligence, but  let  me  tell  of  a  meal  in  a  country  hotel.  'Omega,'  over 
there,  remembers  it.  It  was  at  Lake  Tahoe.  Too  busy  to  fish,  we  sent 
out  a  man.  He  returned  with  a  trout  which  must  have  weighed  ten 
pounds — a  beauty,  still  alive,  swimming  in  a  tank,  when  we  gazed  at  it. 
'  Did  the  landlord  know  how  to  cook  a  trout? '  '  He  should  smile.'  'All 
right;  serve  it  for  breakfast.'  What  a  night  of  anticipation!  How  we 
paused  over  scorched  and  soaked  books  of  account  to  recall  the  trout 
breakfast !  How  at  last  we  toyed  with  knife  and  fork,  an  expectant  light 
in  our  eyes!  It  came — ah,  how  we  beamed!  It  came— ah,  how  we 
shivered!  Cooked?  It  was  cooked,  until,  in  its  charred  remains,  nor 
man  nor  surviving  member  of  its  family  could  recognize  trout.  Dry  and 
greasy  and  bad,  it  might  have  been  sturgeon  or  shark;  it  was  not  our 
breakfast.  I  do  not  go  so  far  as  you,  'Aretas,'  in  wishing  to  dance  upon 
that  landlord's  grave,  but  if  I  had  heard  of  his  accidental  yet  shocking 
death,  a  holy  calm  would  have  filled  my  breast." 

"I  do  not  wish  to  choke  any  one  off,"  said  "Altamont;"  "but  what 
crazy  nonsense  this  all  is !  Now,  I  have  been  on  the  road  as  long  as  any 
one  here,  at  a  time,  too,  when  there  were  no  railroads — when  days  and 
nights  in  a  stage  coach  were  as  bad  as  any  hotel  could  be — and  I  have 
always  found  plenty  to  eat  that  was  good  and  wholesome.  I  have  ad- 
justed more  losses,  and  probably  know  more  about  California,  than  any 
one.  As  for  tea  and  coffee,  why,  if  you  don't  like  it,  take  milk.  I  never 
found  any  of  their  lawyers  who  would  not  admit  that  any  proposition  was 
correct;  and  if  you  can't  get  milk,  water  is  good  enough  for  the  time 
being,  or  whiskey  for  that  matter,  although  I  don't  need  it.  I  can  dictate 
two  letters  to  different  people  on  different  subjects,  all  on  the  food  and 
drink  I  get  at  country  hotels.  If  that  is  not  proof,  what  is?  If  any  of  you 
fellows  want  help  in  your  cases,  call  on  me.  I  am  going  to  bed." 

"Just  one  minute,"  said  "Berg."  "I  have  a  good  thing  on 'Alta- 
mont.'  Some  years  ago  I  invited  him  to  make  a  fourth  at  a  little  dinner 
given  in  honor  of  two  Eastern  brothers.  We  went  to  the  old  Louisiana 
Rotisserie.  'Altamont'  didn't  want  soup,  and,  after  eating  a  pound  of 
bread,  what,  in  heaven's  name,  do  you  suppose  he  called  for?  Pudding! — 
by  the  eternal — and,  dash  my  buttons,  if  he  didn't  order  soup  while  we 
were  at  dessert — that's  the  sort  of  a  liver  complaint  he  is." 

"Wild"  here  got  the  floor.  "If  I  am  allowed  to  get  a  word  in  edge- 
wise with  this  convention,  I  put  it  up  that  the  Oregon  landlord  takes  the 
prize.  Let  me  give  you  our  experience.  Time,  6  A.  M.  ;  season,  winter ; 
air,  frosty — raining  all  the  same.  Drowned-out  old  stage  dumped  me  at 


40  THE   KNAPSACK     1882 


the  door ;  inside  old  man  asleep  by  the  stove,  boots  nearly  burned  off 
him.  '  Hello,  pard,'  shouted  I,  '  where's  the  landlord?'  Long  stupid  stare. 
'I  be,' said  he.  'I  want  a  room — nice  room.'  No  answer.  'I  want  it  now — 
right  off.'  Not  a  burned  boot  dropped.  'Can  I  have  a  room?"1  'Waal, 
yaas,  I  presume  so.'  'All  right;  lead  the  way.'  With  a  blink  that  would 
have  turned  an  owl  green  with  envy,  he  pointed  a  long  finger,  saying, 
'  Take  any  of  them  left-hand  rooms  as  is  empty  on  the  left-hand  side  up- 
stairs.' I  was  making  up  sleep  at  the  rate  of  forty-eight  hours  a  day 
when  I  became  conscious  of  a  riot  outside  my  door.  That  landlord  had 
given  me  the  room  of  a  regular  boarder — a  gambler."  "Wild  "  was  here 
interrupted  in  his  narrrative  by  a  voice,  saying,  "Gentlemen,  it  is  late, 
and  the  guests  complain  that  they  cannot  sleep  for  your  conversation." 
"I  don't  doubt  it,"  said  "Wild;"  "this  house  is  like  a  drum — you  can 
hear  what  is  said  in  any  part  of  it.  I  remember  once  a  young  married 
couple  came  here" — but  another  beautiful  reminiscence  was  lost  in  the 
general  break-up.  G. 


DEAR  Knapsack — Open  the  inner  pocket  of  your  "old  pack"  and 
tuck  this  away  for  the  next  tea  fight — if  you  want  to. 

"CONSEQUENTIAL    DAMAGE." 

The  ideas  of  the  great  unwashed  majority  of  the  "plebeian  herd" 
regarding  the  liability  of  insurance  companies  are  as  varied  and  vague  as 
those  of  "a  hog  on  a  holiday,"  and  happily  illustrated  in  the  recent  ex- 
perience of  "one  of  us"  in  an  adjoining  county. 

Due  notice  of  loss  was  received  at  headquarters,  and  one  knight  of 
the  Draft-Book  hastened  to  the  scene  on  his  errand  of  mercy.  The 
damage  to  building  and  furniture  was  found  to  be  trifling,  but  the  internal 
effects  of  mater  familias  were  rent  and  disrupted  as  if  by  a  volcanic  erup- 
tion, and,  though  the  smoke  aud  ashes  had  drifted  away,  great  distress 
still  prevailed. 

Right  here  came  in  the  question  of  "consequential  damage."  The 
loss  to  building  and  furniture  had  been  amicably  settled,  and  the  adjuster 
was  on  the  point  of  taking  his  departure,  when  the  claimant  brought  him 
to  the  "right  about"  with  a  claim  for  damage  through  the  premature 
birth  of  his  infant  son  William.  To  arrive  at  the  measure  of  this  damage 
was  a  puzzler  for  our  adjuster,  but,  as  we  all  would  do,  he  fell  resolutely 
to  work,  and  first  satisfied  himself  that  the  damaged  article  had  been 
properly  covered  and  the  thing  was  legitimate,  and  William  would  have 


THE   KNAPSACK     1882  41 


been  due  thirty-one  days  from  the  date  of  the  fire.  Then  arose  the  prob- 
lem, what  would  be  the  present  value  of  a  bill  maturing  at  31  days- 
interest,  9  per  cent.  But  here  he  was  startled  to  bethink  himself  that  he 
was  ignorant  of  the  face  of  the  bill,  and  a  sight  of  it  was  refused  him. 
Still,  always  fertile  in  resources — like  all  of  us,  he  took  a  horn  of  the 
dilemma,  and  knowing  the  usual  bill  for  such  things — he  started  out  with 
$50  as  a  basis.  Then,  turning  to  his  "Tiffany"  for  a  proper  table  of 
depreciation,  he  concluded  that  "nut  and  bolt  works  with  gravel  roof" 
would  be  the  correct  guide. 

This  question  of  depreciation  is  always  vexatious  and  prolific  of  more 
trouble  than  any  other  in  the  line  of  our  calling ;  but,  going  quietly  away 
by  himself,  our  adjuster  tackled  it.  Q.  E.  D. — If  nut  and  bolt  works  will 
depreciate  5  per  cent,  in  a  year,  how  much  will  it  depreciate  in  31  days, 
figuring  from  an  z>/verse  ratio  ?  After  laboring  earnestly  for  some  hours 
to  bring  the  thing  to  a  solution,  and  having  "reached  the  base  line,"  he 
was  surprised  by  the  claimant  suddenly  exclaiming,  "Look  a-here,  old 
man,  you  just  pay  the  doctor's  bill  and  I'll  let  you  off."  "How  much  is 
it?"  asks  the  adjuster.  "Ten  dollars,"  says  the  claimant;  and  ten  dol- 
lars was  the  compromise  figure. 

Yours, 


HOW    I    KILLED    MY    MAN. 

I  ONCE  killed  a  man.  He  was  a  perfect  specimen  of  his  kind ;  of  him 
it  may  be  said  society  met  a  long-felt  want  in  his  demise. 
He  was  short  in  stature;  round,  thick-set,  swarthy;  had  broad 
shoulders  and  black  bead-like  eyes ;  to  him  a  necktie  was  a  useless  ap- 
pendage ;  summer  and  winter  he  appeared  in  shirt-sleeves ;  his  eyebrows 
were  bushy;  his  hair  stood  upright  on  his  bullet  head,  "like  quills  upon 
the  fretful  porcupine ; "  his  voice  was  a  subdued  roar — he  spoke  in  thick 
gutturals,  producing  an  effect  not  unlike  solid  extract  of  sound.  I  am 
in  doubt  as  to  his  nationality ;  he  appeared  to  combine  traits  of  every 
known  race,  and  his  characteristics  were  of  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe. 
Not  having  killed  a  man  before,  my  emotions  were  varied.  This  is 
how  it  happened :  He  kept  a  general  merchandise  store,  and,  like  a 
prudent  merchant,  had  policies  with  two  companies,  but,  unlike  a  pru- 
dent merchant,  when  the  fires  occurred  from  causes  to  him  unknown,  he 
had  made  such  an  unequal  distribution  of  coal  oil  about  the  premises, 
that  the  little  room  in  the  rear  alone  was  damaged,  while  the  tell-tale 
stock  in  the  main  store  stared  sullenly  from  the  shelves,  silent  witnesses 
in  the  case.  Before  I  reached  the  spot,  the  district  agent  of  the  other 


THE   KNAPSACK     1882 


company  had  settled  his  loss,  paid  it,  taken  up  his  policy  and  departed, 
as  a  precautionary  measure,  telling  the  assured  that  the  other  policy  con- 
tributed its  full  face  value. 

Let  me  draw  a  veil — two  veils — over  the  picture  of  my  progress  with 
this  good  man.  How  he  did  swear!  Swear — he  swore  in  seventeen 
languages — swore  in  all  the  minor  keys,  from  baritone  to  double  bass — 
swore  to  the  top  of  the  flag-staff  on  Mount  Davidson  and  down  to  the 
lower  level  of  the  bottomless  pit.  When  he  had  finished  this  volunteer 
crop  of  oaths,  he  swore  judicially  in  the  presence  of  a  notary.  Suffering 
truth,  how  he  did  swear!— swore  that  in  this  little  room  10x12  and  8  feet 
high  was  stored  every  variety  of  merchandise,  sewing  machines,  agricul- 
tural implements,  hay,  grain,  feed,  groceries,  provisions,  hardware,  nuts, 
candy — everything!  It  was  the  nuts  and  candy  "broke  the  camel's 
back."  An  itemized  statement  footed  up  fifteen  hundred  weight  of  nuts, 
and  a  ton  of  candy,  all  in  sticks.  I  stopped  him  right  there. 

"Hold  on,  friend,"  said  I,  "whatever  happens,  I  do  not  want  you  to 
forget  anything.  Take  plenty  of  time;  talk  it  over  calmly  with  your 
partner.  True,  he  is  not  interested  in  this  policy,  but  he  can  make  sug- 
gestions. Come  to  town  by  and  by  and  see  your  friends  and  the  people 
from  whom  you  buy  goods.  Get  duplicate  bills  and  statements  of 
accounts ;  that  will  help  you  some.  Don't  forget  the  candy  man ;  he  can, 
no  doubt  think  of  something  not  down  on  your  list.  Prices  may  be 
higher  than  when  you  laid  in  your  winter's  stock  of  nuts.  You  are  en- 
titled to  every  consideration  in  this  matter.  Bring  the  nut  merchant 
round  to  the  office.  I  would  not  see  a  poor  man  ruined  knowingly.  Our 
instructions  are  to  point  out  to  the  assured  any  loss  he  has  suffered  which 
may  escape  his  eye  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment." 

Thus  I  spoke  with  him ;  thus  I  reassured  him,  while  his  breast 
heaved  with  emotion  and  his  eye  burned  fierce  and  fiercer.  Suddenly, 
without  warning,  he  went  mad  right  there;  he  raved,  foamed  at  the 
mouth,  and  bit  at  the  air.  It  was  a  merciful  Providence  intervened  and 
struck  him  to  the  floor,  a  senseless  lump  of  clay.  They  took  him  up, 
carried  him  out,  and  that  week  they  buried  him.  It  was  the  public 
administrator  paid  him  this  tribute;  said  he,  "He  was  great — for  one 
thing.  He  was  the  greatest  liar  in  the  world."  G. 


Conundrum — What  is  the  difference  between  a  livery  stable  and  an 
omnibus  building? 

This  was  asked  of  the  writer  by  one  of  the  prominent  (?)  agents  of  a 
large  Nevada  town,  after  he  had  received  a  liberal  share  of  the  special's 


THE    KNAPSACK     1882 


instructions,  and  when  he  was  endeavoring  to  inform  himself  as  to  the 
intricacies  of  rating. 


AND  now,  being  of  the  opinion  that  we  have  got  right  down  to  the 
bottom  of  the  thing — of  the  Knapsack,  I  mean-  -the  manager  and  his 
associate  are  ready  to  consider  the  inspection  over  and  "fall  in."  Me- 
thinks  we  hear  the  merry  tones  emitted  with  jangling  jar  from  the  metal 
throat  of  the  bugle,  sounding  the  well-known  "dinner  call,"  and  we  sling 
knapsacks  with  alacrity  and  are  willing  to  go  marching  along  for  another 
season. 


44  THE   KNAPSACK     1883 


CALIFORNIA    KNAPSACK. 
VOL.  i.  No.  4- 

C.  MASON  KINNE,        ..--  -        Manager. 


EDITORIAL  ROOMS,  422  CALIFORNIA  STREET, 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  January  15,  1883. 

DEAR  SIR: — The  Knapsack  again  needs  replenishing.  We  have 
been  dividing  our  stores  among  our  comrades  so  lavishly,  that  the  supply 
of  rations  is  nearly  exhausted ;  and  in  consequence  we  propose  to  make  a 
raid  on  the  talent  and  wit  surrounding  our  headquarters  and  see  if  our 
intellectual  commissariat  will  not  be  stocked  with  good  things  as  of 
yore. 

The  soldier  can  do  better  fighting  when  well  fed  ;  and  the  Knapsack 
is  at  its  best  when  most  plethoric. 

The  great  fraternity  of  specials  and  adjusters  make  a  goodly  com- 
pany ;  and  now  that  orders  are  issued  we  expect  you  to  fall  in  promptly. 

Give  us  short,  concise  and  pointed  sketches  of  personal  experience, 
ideas  and  anecdote  that  the  past  year  has  stored  up  for  you,  and  don't 
be  too  long  about  getting  them  ready. 

The  flap  of  the  Knapsack  is  wide  open  and  will  so  remain  till  Febru- 
ary 10,  1883.  Urgently  yours, 

C.  MASON  KINNE,  Manager. 


EDITORIAL. 

In  commencing  another  year  of  our  existence,  we  have  to  offer  this 
number  just  as  it  is.  It  ought  to  have  been  better :  it  might  have  been 
worse. 

Let  it  be  plainly  understood  by  contributors  and  patrons  alike  that 
our  Knapsack  is  not  one  that  is  piled  with  the  rest  when  the  battle 
begins,  but  that  it  is  carried  with  us  onto  the  skirmish  line.  Of  course  it 
would  become  burdensome  were  it  loaded  down  and  packed  full  with 
the  varied  impedimenta  of  the  raw  recruit;  and  the  old  campaigner 
knows  just  what  to  throw  out.  Luxuries  for  the  commanding  officers, 
but  essentials  only  for  veteran  soldiers. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1883  45 


The  special  agent  or  the  adjuster  is  the  man  who  is  detailed  for 
picket  duty,  or  as  one  of  the  skirmishers,  and  while  under  fire  or  over  it, 
he  sees  things  as  they  are.  He  is  not  fighting  the  whole  battle ;  statistics 
don't  count  for  much  just  then.  The  man  in  his  immediate  front  is  his 
meat  for  that  fight ;  and  whether  it  is  a  slippery  agent  or  an  unjust  claim- 
ant, it  engrosses  all  his  attention  and  his  best  thoughts. 

The  generals  in  the  back  office  may  direct  the  plan  of  the  Battle  of 
the  Underwriters,  and  carry  it  out  according  to  all  the  rules  and  regula- 
tions of  modern  insurance  warfare,  but  without  his  efficient  field  officer  to 
point  out  the  dangers  of  the  the  "ford"  and  the  "pass,"  his  infantry  in 
the  way  of  Tariffs,  his  field  batteries  of  Statistics,  and  his  cavalry  charges 
of  Special  Ratings,  all  are  met  and  demoralized  and  finally  routed  by  the 
onslaught  of  partisan  rangers  and  guerilla  warriors,  frantically  brandish- 
ing the  spear  of  rebates  and  cut  rates,  excessive  commissions  and  expen- 
sive supplies. 

Insurance  is  a  peculiar  business,  fraught  with  dangers  as  certain  as 
those  of  bullet  and  shell.  We  meet  the  onslaught  of  the  fiery  foe  first 
of  all ;  we  have  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the  battle.  Every  loss,  imaginary  or 
real,  that  can  be  put  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  insurance  company,  is 
carefully  rammed  home  and  fired  with  a  short  fuse.  The  adjuster  now 
and  then  gets  in  a  little  good  work,  but  ordinarily  returns  home  feeling 
that  he  went,  he  saw,  and  was  conquered.  His  knapsack  is  full  of  expe- 
riences—good, bad  and  indifferent.  He  is  at  once  a  student  and  a 
teacher.  Losses  educate  the  people  to  insure ;  adjusters  inform  them  of 
details  and  necessary  preliminaries  that  hedge  about  the  path  of  indem- 
nity, that  they  never  thought  of  before.  It  is  a  new  schooling  for  them, 
and  the  adjuster  is  the  tutor. 

But  the  field  man  finds  his  capacity  is  of  a  dual  character.  To-day 
the  wearied  adjuster,  to-morrow  the  worried  special.  Tutoring  a  claim- 
ant in  the  paths  of  rectitude  to-day,  but  a  few  hours  finds  him  schooling 
the  local  agent  how  not  to  cut  rates  and  yet  talk  business  to  win  ;  trying 
to  convince  him  that  commissions  for  himself  is  not  all  he  has  to  think 
about,  and  that  the  tariff  is  not  the  immaculate  personification  of  insur- 
ance judgment.  That  Book  4,  as  applied  to  a  California  town,  or  village 
in  eastern  Oregon  or  Washington,  is  to  be  construed  simply  as  a  min- 
imum guide,  and  not  a  maximum  solution  of  what  to  charge  for  a  broken 
frame  range  or  a  B-class  building  exposed  by  a  long  row  of  frame 
houses,  in  which  cloth-lining  and  stove-pipes  predominate. 

But  it  is  not  for  the  Knapsack  to  moralize.  Its  duty  is  to  convey 
such  facts  and  experiences  as  may  be  placed  within  its  protecting  folds, 
and  not  manufacture  them;  to  absorb  and  not  theorize.  We  have  to 
give  you  to-day  a  little  of  all  sorts ;  from  grave  to  gay,  from  water  supply 


46  THE   KNAPSACK 


in  San  Francisco  to  whisky  straight  in  the  mountains.  There  might  have 
been  more ;  there  ought  to  have  been  much  more  offered  us  from  out 
the  varied  episodes  in  the  work  of  our  specials  and  adjusters,  supple- 
mented by  the  careful  thought  and  wise  experience  emanating  from  those 
who  occupy  the  sanctum  sanctorum  ;  who  sit  at  the  helm  of  the  various 
ships  sailing  with  their  mingled  fair  winds  and  foul,  over  the  troubled  sea 
of  insurance.  But  what  we  have  is  good,  and  of  a  character  for  such  a 
receptacle ;  while  the  various  committees  can  deal  with  the  weighty  prob- 
lems of  losses  and  adjustments,  forms  of  policies,  statistics,  etc.,  with 
suggestions  thrown  in  of  how  to  reform  evil  practices  and  elevate  the 
profession  generally.  THE  EDITOR. 

THIS,  from  a  paper  read  by  a  prominent  underwriter  before  the  Asso- 
ciation of  the  South,  fits  our  climate  so  close  that  it  will  bear  repeating. 

Report  says  that  the  paper  was  repudiated  by  that  Association  ;  and 
it  must  have  been  because  truth  is  unpopular  in  that  neighborhood. 

He  says  of  the  "candid  agent,"  Arkansas  is  a  good  place  to  draw  an 
example  from  on  this  score.  An  agent  up  there  offered  a  company  a 
risk — a  ten  per  center;  making  a  big,  fat  premium — in  an  Arkansas 
frame  row,  the  character  of  which  was  so  hard  that  it  would  simply  have 
scared  the  average  manager  to  death  to  see  it.  The  company  wrote 
back  to  know  what  especial  feature  recommended  the  risk.  Agent  re- 
plied that  the  chief  thing  that  recommended  it  to  him  was  "the  commis- 
sion that  was  in  it"  Yours,  X. 


THE  following  is  a  good  deal  better. than  no  response  at  all.  We 
thank  "  C  "  for  small  favors.  Try  again. 

PORTLAND,  Oregon,  February  ist,  1883. 
C.  MASON  KINNE,  ESQ. 

My  Dear  Sir: — Your  call  for  contributions  to  the  California  Knap- 
sack is  received. 

The  self-assurance  and  cheek  of  the  special  agent  is  proverbial ;  but 
I  am  yet  too  young  in  the  business  to  presume  to  offer  any  sketch  that 
would  be  of  interest  or  entertainment  to  the  members  of  the  "  F.  U.  A." 

Oregon  is  too  slow  and  plodding  to  furnish  any  startling  experiences  ; 
but  she  can  boast  of  more  fires  and  larger  losses  to  the  premiums  written, 
and  more  unprincipled  insurance  solicitors  and  agents,  than  any  other 
country  on  the  globe.  If  ever  I  have  an  experience  in  this  country  of 
perpetual  mud  and  slush  that  will  be  of  interest  to  the  Association,  I  shall 
be  only  too  happy  to  contribute  it.  Wishing  you  a  joyous  reunion,  I 
remain,  Very  truly  yours,  C. 


THE   KNAPSACK    1883  47 


EDITOR  Knapsack :  If  you  have  found,  as  I  have,  a  lamentable  ignor- 
ance of  the  most  common  rules,  perhaps  you  will  add  to  this  list,  which 
is  called 

HINTS   TO   AGENTS. 

[If  printed  on  a  card,  why  not  a  good  thing  to  scatter  broadcast?] 

In  event  of  loss,  telegraph  the  number  of  policy  and  probable 
amount  of  loss  to  general  agent. 

Let  the  assured  put  his  damaged  goods  in  order,  sorting  the  wet 
from  the  dry,  and  protecting  them  from  further  damage. 

Do  not  assume  responsibility ;  use  common  sense  ;  advise  and  assist. 

Many  of  your  patrons  think  they  have  no  right  to  remove  or  even 
touch  their  goods  at  time  of  fire.  An  error.  It  is  their  duty  to  save. 
The  property  insured  belongs  to  the  party  insuring,  before,  at,  and  after 
the  fire.  Let  him  proceed  as  he  would  if  he  had  no  policy. 

Save  books  of  account  first. 

Do  not  consent  to  or  make  an  endorsement  on  policy  after  a  fire. 

Office  and  store  fixtures  or  furniture  are  not  covered  under  the  head 
of  "stock." 

Pictures,  silver-ware,  ornaments,  printed  books,  sheet  music,  and 
musical  instruments  are  not  covered  under  the  head  of  ' '  household  furni- 
ture." Put  separate  amount  on  each  subject. 

Household  furniture  includes  carpets,  curtains,  bedding,  crockery, 
glass-ware  and  kitchen  utensils. 

Awnings  are  not  covered  with  brick  buildings  unless  specially  men- 
tioned. 

Give  permission  for  fifteen  days'  carpenter  work  free ;  after  which 
charge  as  per  rule  in  rate-book. 

Accept  not  to  exceed  two-thirds  cash  value  on  any  subject. 

Cash  value  is  the  value  of  "to-day,"  notwithstanding  the  circum- 
stances. 

Refer  all  special  hazards  to  headquarters  without  binding  the  com- 
pany. 

Cancel  and  return  policies  when  your  judgment  dictates;  for  in- 
stance : 

Misrepresentation  on  the  part  of  the  assured, 

Danger  from  incendiarism, 

When  property  is  in  the  hands  of  sheriff, 

When  building  is  vacant, 

When  business  is  not  profitable. 

Render  your  account  current  the  first  of  each  month. 


48  THE   KNAPSACK     1883 


When  rate  is  increased  from  any  cause  during  the  life  of  policy,  col- 
lect additional  premium. 

Never  consent  to  assignment  except  on  actual  sale  of  property  in- 
sured. 

The  words  "  loss,  if  any,  payable,"  will  protect  other  interests. 

The  first  payee  must  release  his  claim  before  a  second  can  be  recog- 
nized. 

Enter  every  change  in  your  register.  X.  Y.  Z. 


[!N  this  connection  we  add  some  of  the  printed  instructions  an  ex- 
special,  now  Secretary,  sends  his  agents.  They,  as  well  as  the  preceding 
ones,  are  all  good. — ED.] 

N.  B. — Please  be  careful  and  give  us  the  size  of  building  to  be  in- 
sured. 

ATTACHMENTS.— When  property  insured  is  attached  (before  a  loss), 
immediately  cancel  our  policies  on  said  risk. 

DISTINCTNESS. — If  the  signature  of  the  assured  on  application  is 
indistinct,  write  the  name  in  lead  pencil  on  the  margin. 

REMITTANCES.— All  remittances  and  letters  address  to  the  company, 
and  not  to  the  officers. 

TOUCHING    LOSSES. 

NOTICE. — Upon  receipt  of  information  of  a  fire  in  your  town  or  dis- 
trict, "At  once  notify  the  company  by  telegraph,  giving  number  of 
policy ;  where  issued;  loss,  if  supposed  total,  or  amount  of  partial ;  name 
of  assured,  and  names  of  other  companies  interested. 

INVENTORY. — Schedule  immediately  all  property  saved. 

CUSTODY. — Request  assured  to  take  charge  and  protect  property 
saved  until  loss  is  adjusted. 

PERISHABLE  PROPERTY. — Use  all  legitimate  means  to  dry  and  pre- 
serve property  damaged.  Iron  and  hardware  have  dried  by  rolling  in 
bran  or  shorts  to  prevent  rusting.  Cigars,  tobacco,  dry  and  fancy  goods, 
clothing,  linen- ware  and  such,  expose  to  air  to  dry. 

SUSPICIOUS  CIRCUMSTANCES. — Take  the  name  and  address  of  every 
person  who  knows  or  professes  to  know  anything  about  the  fire,  and 
note  all  the  facts  relating  thereto. 

PROOFS  OF  Loss.— Should  an  assured  file  proofs  and  a  statement  of 
loss  with  you  before  the  arrival  of  the  adjuster,  "At  once  notify  him 
that  you  have  no  authority  to  receive  and  accept  the  same ;  but,  if  he 
desires,  you  will  hold  and  deliver  them  to  the  adjuster  of  the  company 
for  him,  upon  the  adjuster's  arrival ;  and  that  the  assured  must  furnish 


THE   KNAPSACK     1883 


said  company  such  further  statements  and  proofs  as  the  said  adjuster  may 
require,  the  company  waiving  none  of  the  conditions  of  its  policy  or 
objections  to  the  receipt  of  said  proofs,  or  their  correctness." 

INSTRUCTIONS. — Whenever  in  doubt  on  any  point  relating  to  your 
conduct  at  time  of  a  loss,  telegraph  us  for  information  and  instruc- 
tions. 

WATCHMAN. — When  property  saved  and  in  a  damaged  condition 
amounts  to  over  $1,000,  put  on  a  responsible  watchman  until  the  adjuster 
arrives ;  and  no  outsiders  must  be  allowed  on  the  premises,  or  to  handle 
said  property,  excepting  those  designated  by  the  assured  to  assist  in 
separating  the  damaged  stock  from  the  sound,  and  to  save  and  protect 
his  property  from  further  injury,  or  to  take  an  account  thereof. 

P. 

GETTING  BOARD    RATES. 

It  is  said  there  is  nothing  new  under  the  "sun."  Here  is  the  last 
in  the  way  of  getting  Board  rates  : 

Property  insured :  a  two-story  brick  building,  occupied  as  a  butcher 
shop  on  the  first  floor  and  dwelling  on  the  second. 

Dwelling  rate,  .50.     Butcher  shop  rate,  i  per  cent. 

Copy  of  policy : 

$ on  his  two-story  metal-roof  brick  building,  occupied  as  a 

dwelling,  situate corner  of and streets,  town  o. 

,  county  of ,  California. 

Term,  i  year.     Rate,  50  cents.     Premium  $ 

"Permission  granted  to  cut  and  sell  cold  meats  on  first  floor,  day 
time  and  evenings."  Yours,  X. 

[The  above  is  a  true  fact  and  speaks  for  itself. — ED.] 

A   LESSON   IN   RATING. 

Recently  in  a  small  village  I  was  accosted  by  a  local  agent  of  a  prom- 
inent Connecticut  company,  and  requested  to  settle  a  dispute,  viz. : 

"  What  is  the  rate  on  a  detached  frame  dwelling?" 

"Seventy-five  cents,"  I  said. 

"Well,  I  mean  a  dwelling  without  fresco,"  he  answered. 

"Without  fresco?    Please  explain." 

Said  he,  "Under  alphabetical  table  of  hazard,  page  12  of  rate  book, 
I  read :  Frame  dwellings,  see  frescoed  work ;  D  class ;  75  cents ;  now, 
if  you  can't  see  any  frescoed  work,  what  then  ?  " 

Sadly  I  turned  to  the  other  man,  and  asked,  "What  is  your  idea?" 


50  THE    KNAPSACK     1883 


"Well,  /  claim  that  under  rule  on  page  4,  all  frame  buildings  rate 
2>£  per  cent.,"  he  replied.  Explanation  follows:  "Confound  it,  my 
company  has  insured  my  own  dwelling  for  the  last  three  years  at  2%  per 

cent,  per  annum,  and  never  told  me  I  was  wrong." 

X..  Y .  LI. 


HOW  OUR   LOSS  WAS   FINALLY   SETTLED. 

TT  F  YOU  should  search  the  whole  world  through  you  would  fail  to  find 
11  such  another  united  family  as  ours.  Our  love  for  grandmother  is 
woven  in  with  our  daily  lives.  Left  without  father  or  mother  at  a 
tender  age,  she  became  to  us  at  once  guardian,  parent,  adviser,  friend. 
We  are  three  children — Charlie,  just  coming  of  age;  Kate,  two  years 
younger,  and  I,  "sentimental  sixteen."  From  infancy  that  blessed 
grandmother  has  nursed  us  through  sickness,  conquered  our  stubborn 
pride  by  loving  means,  and  instilled  into  us  habits  of  industry  and  econ- 
omy. We  lived  in  the  family  mansion  of  the  old  Harkinson  estate,  a 
few  miles  from  town ;  just  a  few  acres  of  ground,  with  a  fine  chestnut 
grove  leading  to  the  house,  a  well-kept  garden,  and  two  or  three  out- 
buildings ;  but  oh !  how  dear  to  us.  Perhaps  you  think  this  a  strange 
story  for  the  Knapsack, — wait  and  see.  On  the  27th  of  December,  only 
two  nights  after  Christmas,  we  were  scared  out  of  our  sleep  and  bundled 
out  of  the  house  helter-skelter.  "Fire!  fire!"  was  all  we  heard. 
Wrapped  in  odds  and  ends  of  blankets,  table-covers  and  overcoats,  we 
watched  that  dear  old  home  melt  away.  Huddled  together  at  the  dairy- 
house  window  we  saw  the  angry  flames,  and  saw  the  cause  of  them,  too 
— an  earthenware  chimney !  Heat  within  and  cold  air  without  had 
cracked  it  just  below  the  roof ;  no  knowing  how  long  the  fire  had  smoul- 
dered. 

Even  in  our  terror  we  noticed  the  most  ridiculous  incidents.  We 
saw  that  what  was  brought  out  of  the  house  was  mostly  of  no  value . 
nothing  was  complete ;  something  was  gone  from  everything. 

Of  course  there  was  insurance.  Charlie  informed  us  with  pride  that 
he  had  attended  to  the  matter  himself;  grandmother  was  beginning  to 
trust  matters  of  business  to  his  care. 

Well,  next  day  we  knew  no  more  what  to  do  than  so  many  kittens. 
The  local  agent  of  the  insurance  company  was  dead,  and  we  had  to  call 
in  grandmother's  lawyer,  who  notified  the  company.  Next  came  an 
elegant-looking  young  gentleman  to  adjust  the  loss.  He  was  so  kind 
and  explained  everything  with  such  ease,  he  quite  filled  us  with  admira- 
tion. We  had  a  builder's  estimate  and  an  appraisement,  and  made  out  a 


THE    KNAPSACK     1883  57 


long  list  of  all  that  dear  old  furniture,  and  the  adjuster  helped ;  and  when 
he  said,  "let  me  look  at  the  policy,  please,"  Charlie  produced  it  with 
quite  an  air,  as  if  to  say,  "I  am  the  business  man  here."  After  a  look  he 
said,  "I  want  the  last  policy."  "Last  one?"  said  Charley,  "last  one — 
why  that  is  the  last  one."  "Oh,  no,"  said  he,  "this  expired  in  July." 
"Expired?"  said  Charlie,  turning  pale,  "expired — that's  all  the  policy 
there  is." 

Oh,  dear !  such  another  time  you  never  saw.  Charlie  was  as  limp  as  a 
caterpillar.  We  brought  ammonia  and  cologne  and  handed  him  over  to 
grandmother.  Throughout  this  trying  scene  the  adjuster  seemed  to  do 
just  the  right  thing  at  the  right  time,  and  said  good-bye,  leaving  us  with 
the  impression  that  we  had  cruelly  deceived  him.  When  the  lawyer  told 
us  we  had  no  claim,  you  may  be  sure  we  were  a  solemn  quartette. 
Then  it  was  for  the  first  time  we  learned  how  grandmother,  in  the  love  of 
her  dear  heart,  had  educated  us,  clothed  us,  and  reared  us  at  the  expense 
of  her  own  little  fortune,  which  was  nearly  spent.  How  the  Harkinson 
estate  yielded  nothing ;  and  in  her  extremity  she  had  no  one  to  turn  to 
but  God.  Then  it  was  we  children  put  our  talents  to  good  use.  Kate 
painted  water-color  sketches,  which  sold  quickly ;  I  formed  a  music  class, 
and  Charlie — well,  Charlie  seemed  suddenly  to  become  a  man ;  not  that 
he  changed  much  in  appearance,  but  his  upper  lip  seemed  to  become 
perfectly  straight,  which  gave  a  determined  expression  to  the  whole  face. 
One  day  he  told  us  he  had  talked  with  the  president  of  the  insurance 
company,  and  was  to  meet  the  board  of  directors.  What  for?  Well  he 
hardly  knew;  there  was  some  awful  mistake  about  the  whole  miserable 
business,  and  he  could  not  rest  until  he  had  tried  to  unravel  it. 

The  day  came — he  stated  his  case  to  those  twelve  men  as  I  have  told 
it  to  you ;  his  whole  heart  was  in  the  story,  and  he  only  faltered  when  he 
spoke  of  the  wrong  he  had  done  grandmother.  The  directors  were  in- 
terested. Said  one:  " Why  if  the  policy  had  expired,  did  you  send  an 
adjuster?"  This  to  the  Secretary,  who  answered:  "The  property  has 
been  insured  with  the  company  for  years  and  renewed  annually;  the 
adjuster  was  sent  at  once  without  consulting  the  books." 

"Was  there  no  application  for  this  policy?"  asked  another. 

"No;  here  is  the  only  application;  the  original,  marked  renewed, 
you  will  see  from  year  to  year." 

"If  the  agent  who  took  the  risk  were  alive,"  said  Charlie,  "I  am 
sure  he  could  explain  the  matter."  One  old  gentleman  who  had  quietly 
watched  proceedings  asked  if  the  agent  had  not  written  a  letter  ordering 
the  policy  renewed. 

The  Secretary  retired  a  moment  and  brought  in  a  file  of  letters; 
selecting  two,  he  glanced  over  them,  and,  with  a  slightly  changed  color, 


52  THE    KNAPSACK     1883 


asked  to  see  the  policy ;  then,  with  a  dry  little  cough,  he  said : 

"Gentlemen,  the  mystery  is  solved;  this  policy  was  ordered  renewed 
for  three  years.  By  this  application  you  see  the  annual  rate ;  the 
amount  of  premium  paid  on  the  policy  is  double  the  annual  rate,  or 
what  we  call  a  three-years'  rate ;  clearly  a  clerical  error  on  the  part  of  the 
policy-writer." 

Well !  if  it  had  been  a  matter  of  life  and  death,  I  don't  believe  there 
could  have  been  more  joy  manifested.  Talk  about  corporations  not 
having  souls;  those  men  congratulated  Charlie,  and  shook  hands  all 
around  with  enthusiasm ;  and  the  President,  laying  his  broad  palm  on 
Charlie's  shoulder,  said:  "Young  man,  there  is  a  vacancy  in  my  office 
for  just  such  a  boy  as  you,  and  who  knows  but  some  day  you  may  fill 
that  chair,"  pointing  to  his  vacant  seat. 

Out  came  the  nice  young  adjuster  again  with  proofs  of  loss,  and  a 
check  for  $5,000;  and  weren't  we  happy? 

And  since  that  day  the  young  adjuster  and  I  have  agreed  to  a  con- 
tract of  our  own,  requiring  certain  proofs — of  affection.  But  that  is 
neither  here  nor  there.  G. 


THE  following  has  already  been  honored  by  appearing  in  print,  but 
is  pointed  enough  to  bear  reading  again : 

GOING    FOR    HER    BALD-HEADED. 

A  certain  officer  recently  received  a  report  of  a  policy  written,  cover- 
ing, among  others,  this  item:  "$150  on  her  wigs,  braids,  puffs,  rolls, 
curls,  and  other  hair  for  her  personal  use,  etc." 

The  particular  old  covey,  the  presiding  genius  of  said  office,  exhib- 
ited an  alarming  ignorance  of  the  subject  in  writing  the  agent  as  follows: 
' '  This  is  an  uncommon  item ;  and  as  we  find  no  blanks  for  an  appro- 
priate survey,  you  will  please  speedily  answer  following  interrogations : 
What  color  is  the  hair?  and  if  red,  decline.  Is  assured  married  or  single? 
If  married,  is  her  husband  quick-tempered ?  Does  she  'fire  up'  quickly 
herself?  If  single,  has  she  beaux,  and  do  they  smoke?  Does  she  use  a 
spark  arrester  ?  Is  she  a  church  member,  and  does  her  pastor  smoke  ? 
Does  she  smoke?  Is  she  near-sighted  or  cross-eyed,  and  are  her  dress- 
ing-mirror lights  globed  or  basketed  ?  Is  she  a  match-maker,  and  is  she 
subject  to  'em?  Is  she  a  cremationist ?  Has  she  sparkling  eyes,  and 
is  she  an  heiress?  (Does  not  seem  to  be  hair-less.)  Limit  degree  of 
heat  of  curling  irons  and  toilet  chemicals  to  bay  water  and  champagne, 
and  not  more  hazardous.  Strike  out  lightning  clause  if  steel  hair-pins 


THE    KNAPSACK      1883 


are  used,  and  make  policy  cease  at  death— that  is  not  good  on  hairs  to 
heirs  in  any  hereafter  place.  Celluloid  pins,  back-combs,  bang-sup- 
porters, and  other  articles  prohibited,  and  powder  limited  to  twenty-five 
pounds  in  metal  packages.  If  any  moral  hazard  or  enemies,  decline." 


QUERY. 

Should  the  cigars  the  adjuster  smokes  be  charged  in  the  expense  ac- 
count, or  to  loss  by  fire  ? 

A  MERCED  COUNTY  DAY-BOOK. 

The  foiling  is  handed  in  by  one  of  "ours,"  and  goes  to  show  with 
what  good  things  the  Knapsack  might  be  filled,  if  each  of  us  would  take 
the  pains  to  jot  down  the  amusing  part  of  his  experiences : 

DEAR  Knapsack :  I  hand  you  some  actual  notes  from  the  day-book 
of  a  Merced  county  claimant,  made  while  trying  to  arrive  at  his  loss  last 
summer.  He  made  a  diary  of  daily  experiences  of  this  book,  and  of 
which  the  following  are  a  few  extracts  : 

JUNE  2,  1882. 
Mrs.  Brown — 

10  yds.  Calico    $1.00 

By  2  pds.  Butter   50 

Balance   $  .50 

Am  going  to  Merced  to  a  ball  with  Lena  to-morrow  night. 

JUNE  4,  1882. 
William  Stevens — 

i  pr.  Boots #3.00 

These  boots  came  from  the  "United  Workingmen's,"  at  'Frisco,  and 
give  satisfaction  all  around. 
Alex  Whitman — 

i  Jumper    87^ 

Speaking  of  "jumpers,"  I  took  Lena  to  the  ball  last  night,  in  my 
new  gig.  Staid  until  3  o'clock  this  morning.  Had  ice-cream  and  cake 
at  Johnnie  Smith's.  Cost  5oc.  apiece.  Charge  expense  account  for  whole 
thing,  $2.60. 

Lucky  I  came  home  this  morning;  the  sow  littered  last  nignt — 9 
pigs,  all  boars. 


54  THE   KNAPSACK     1883 

JUNE  6TH. 
Mary  Anderson  — 

i  Box  Hairpins  ..................................  $  .  10 

i  pr.  Shoe-Strings    ...............................  05 

i  pr.  Drawers    ..................................   1.15 

i  Dung  Fork  ....................................  3.50 

$4-80 
By  10  doz.  Eggs   ................................  2.00 

Balance   ....................................  $2.80 

Thermometer  98°.    Old  sow  not  doing  well. 

JUNE  STH. 
No  sales  to-day. 

Lena  came  in  this  afternoon.    Had  a  good  time.    Shall  marry  this 
girl  sure  if  things  go  on  this  way.    Gave  her  a  pair  of  garters. 

Charge  expense    .................................  15 

JUNE  IOTH. 
Mrs.  Allison  — 

5  yds.  sheeting  ..................................  $1.00 

i  pr.  Shoes  ......................................  2.50 

i  Corset  Lace    ...................................  10 


The  old  sow  died  last  night.  It  was  mournful  to  hear  the  poor  pigs 
lament  the  loss  of  their  mother. 

I  have  the  honor,  etc., 

ONE  OF  THE  RANK  AND  FILE. 

[The  Knapsack  is  pleased  to  announce  that  the  above-mentioned 
claimant  has  since  married  the  girl.] 

EMBARRASSING. 

To  bluff  an  assessor  in  a  country  town  regarding  a  taxable  valuation, 
and  be  compelled  to  look  the  same  man  in  the  face  a  few  days  after,  when 
he  is  acting  as  adjuster  for  the  company  in  which  you  are  insured. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1883  55 


A    "BAR"    STORY. 

TT  IMBER  Jim  Witherspoon  was  a  character.  Physically  he  was  weak- 
II  ^  kneed,  and  hence  his  nickname;  but  mentally  he  stood  pat  on  the 
most  astounding  and  intricate  propositions.  He  prided  himself 
on  a  latent  genius  which  did  not  find  full  scope  for  its  exhibition  in  the 
menial  occupation  of  wood-sawing ;  but  he  patiently  bided  the  time  when 
"Limber  Jim  Witherspoon"  should  be  a  name  that  would  awaken  the 
envy  of  the  world.  His  time  came.  Having  artistically  arranged  the 
stove  wood  of  the  camp  so  that  the  usual  proportion  of  sticks  would  be 
just  long  enough  to  prevent  the  shutting  of  the  stove-door  unless  they 
were  driven  through  the  other  end  of  the  heating  apparatus  with  a  sledge, 
he  betook  himself  to  the  mountains,  at  the  head  of  Grizzly  Gulch,  intent 
upon  chopping  government  timber  for  the  benefit  of  his  own  private  and 
diminutive  exchequer.  The  air  was  cold,  and  braced  him  up  to  that  ex- 
tent that  he  was  compelled,  in  order  to  keep  from  freezing,  to  put  more 
energy  into  the  building  of  his  cabin  than  he  had  ever  been  accused  of 
before.  Even  the  seams  of  his  cheap  clothing,  entirely  unaccustomed  to 
such  antics,  began  to  laugh  as  he  plied  his  lusty  strokes ;  and  so  Jim 
worked  the  harder.  With  death  behind  him,  Jim  could  work. 

That  was  a  luxurious  rest  that  he  enjoyed  as  he  spread  his  blankets 
before  the  fire  and  watched  the  blaze  roar  up  the  chimney  during  the 
week  after  the  cabin  was  finished.  He  had  not  yet  chopped  any  wood  for 
market;  it  was  "too  darnation  cold,"  as  he  expressed  it;  and  he  "guessed 
they'd  have  a  chinook  pretty  soon,"  so  that  the  weather  would  be  fit  for 
a  white  man  to  stir  around  in.  So,  between  his  naps  and  his  meals  and 
his  day  dreams,  he  "puttered"  around  inside  the  cabin,  trying  to  make  it 
comfortable  by  the  addition  of  such  improvements  as  would  commend 
themselves  to  a  man  of  his  genteel  predilections.  One  of  the  most  indis- 
pensable articles  to  a  person  of  his  tastes  was  a  table  ;  and,  as  the  roaring 
fire  had  sufficiently  thawed  out  the  frozen  floor  of  the  cabin,  he  straight- 
way dug  the  holes  for  the  table  legs.  He  wondered,  now,  if  there  might 
not  be  some  gold  in  the  dirt  that  came  out  of  those  holes.  It  was  still 
awful  cold  outside,  and  he  guessed  it  would  be  easier  to  stay  inside  and 
experiment  than  to  go  outside  and  work.  Of  course  he  had  a  pan  with 
him  (no  outfit  was,  in  those  days,  complete  without  one).  Now,  Jim  was 
one  of  the  most  "patient"  men  with  his  hands  that  was  ever  seen. 
There  was  no  nervousness,  no  hurry,  and  he  seemed  to  be  humming  a 
gentle  lullaby  to  his  pan  as  he  sleepily  moved  it  to  and  fro  with  a  "go-to- 
sleep-my-baby "  motion,  that  now  and  then  allowed  a  spoonful  of  amber- 
colored  water  to  slop  over,  but  often  didn't. 


5<5  THE   KNAPSACK     1883 


The  next  day  was  colder  than  ever,  but  Jim  was  out  doors.  All  his 
worldly  possessions  were  on  his  back,  and  he  was  headed  for  town.  The 
"  prospect "  from  the  bed-post  holes  had  confirmed  the  suspicion  raised 
by  the  table-leg  holes  that  he  was  a  rich  man.  He  had  in  his  pocket  a 
few  grains  of  gold  to  prove  his  statement,  that  he  had  struck  diggings 
that  would  "go  a  bit  to  the  pan."  He  did  not,  however,  make  his  dis- 
covery known  upon  his  arrival  in  camp,  but  essayed  his  old  occupation 
of  wood-sawing.  To  his  dismay  he  found  that  during  his  absence  his  old 
customers,  unable  to  get  along  without  the  warning  influences  of  the  pro- 
fanity which  his  long  sticks  promoted,  had  been  hiring  a  swarm  of  China- 
men that  had  come  freezing  with  the  last  blizzard  into  camp.  It  was  not 
until  the  dust  in  his  sack  required  a  plentiful  admixture  of  black  sand  in 
order  to  make  it  hold  out  "four  bits"  that  Jim  became  desperate  and 
appealed  to  his  old  employers  and  to  his  old  associates  to  give  their  own 
flesh  and  blood  a  chance.  The  result  was  that  the  Chinamen  were  "run 
out"  of  town;  and  as  Jim  saw  them  winding  their  way  along  the  Grizzly 
Gulch  trail  that  he  had  so  recently  traveled,  he  concluded  that  the 
balance  of  that  day  should  be  set  apart  by  him  as  a  season  of  rest  and 
thanksgiving.  But  from  that  time  on  it  was  noted  that  Jim  tried,  in  a  for- 
lorn hope  sort  of  a  way,  to  infuse  more  energy  into  his  work  than  ever  be- 
fore; and  when,  at  the  close  of  winter,  he  engaged  to  "  whack  bulls"  to 
Fort  Benton,  it  was  surmised  that  it  was  something  more  than  the  usually 
lonely  plug  of  tobacco  that  swelled  his  off-pocket  to  its  exceptionally 
well-developed  proportions.  Fortunately  the  bulls  of  Jim's  team  had 
been  grazing  on  icicles  all  winter,  so  he  had  no  difficulty  in  keeping  up 
with  them,  and  he  arrived  at  Fort  Benton  in  time  to  work ;  or,  perhaps, 
we  should  say,  "wash"  his  way  down  the  river  as  dish-cleaner  on  the 
steamer  Octavia.  The  June  rise  made  the  waters  of  the  river  thick  with 
mud,  so  that  the  sepia  representations  of  cloud-bursts  and  murkey 
weather  generally,  that  appeared  on  Jim's  "plaques"  were  generously 
attributed  to  the  mud,  rather  than  to  his  laziness.  So  he  was  not  thrown 
overboard,  but  arrived  at  Yankton  all  right.  Here  he  found  more  good 
luck  awaiting  him.  A  considerable  section  of  land  which  he  had  taken 
up  one  day,  several  years  before,  when  it  was  too  hot  to  work,  had 
become  very  valuable,  and  he  found  himself  at  once  in  a  position  to  put 
into  effect  the  scheme  which  he  had  kept  secret  in  his  breast  ever  since 
the  day  when  he  had  prospected  in  the  table  leg  shaft. 

It  took  some  time  to  have  his  apparatus  manufactured  ;  and  it  was 
not  until  one  year  later  that  he  was  on  his  way  up  the  Missouri  River  with 
an  iron  pipe,  a  foot  in  diameter  and  a  half  a  mile  in  length,  with  which, 
when  placed  in  a  "V"  shape,  he  proposed  conducting  the  only  available 
water  down  one  side  of  Grizzly  Gulch  and  up  the  other,  on  to  "  Wither- 


THE    KNAPSACK     1883  57 


spoon's  Bar."  *  *  *  *  How  his  spurs  jingled  as  he  gave 
his  horse's  bit  an  extra  twitch  while  riding  at  the  head  of  the  bull  train 
bearing  his  "machinery"  through  the  old  camp  where  the  buck-saw  and 
the  accompanying  horse,  without  a  horse,  were  his  familiars.  On  the 
way  up  the  gulch  the  occurrences  of  eighteen  months  before  were  recalled 
by  the  appearance  of  a  straggling  band  of  Chinamen  staggering  along 
under  their  heavy  burdens.  Were  these  ever  his  competitors?  Well, 
even  if  they  were,  that  time  was  now  passed  forever ;  and  Jim  eagerly 
hastened  forward  to  the  turn  in  the  gulch  which  should  bring  with  him  in 
sight  of  his  fortune. 

A  drizzling  rain  set  in,  and  the  night  closed  in  thick  and  dark  upon 
him  and  his  train  earlier  than  they  had  anticipated.  Still  they  pressed  on, 
for  Jim  was  certain  of  his  road,  and  knew  that  they  would  reach  their 
destination  in  a  few  rods  more.  Soon,  however,  the  road  became  so 
rough  and  rocky  that  they  were  compelled  to  halt  and  await  the  grey  of 
the  morning  before  proceeding  further.  The  morning  came,  and .  for 
once  Jim  was  up  before  the  sun.  He  found  himself  standing  on  a  slip- 
pery boulder,  rubbing  his  eyes  and  gazing  upon  other  slippery  boulders 
and  rocks  and  gravel,  wet  with  the  rain  of  the  previous  night,  that  made 
up  a  picture  of  monotonous  desolation  unrelieved  save  by  the  ruins  of  a 
single  cabin  that  seemed  to  have  been  only  recently  undermined  and 
toppled  over  by  its  last  occupants.  Little  shelves  and  other  conveniences 
were  still  attached  to  the  logs  which  formerly  composed  its  sides,  and,  as 
broke  the  day,  so  broke  upon  Jim's  intellect  the  realization  that  he  stood 
upon  what  was  left  of  "  Witherspoon's  Bar." 

What  became  of  him  nobody  knows.  His  gaunt  outlines,  with  more 
limber  pace  than  ever,  were  last  seen  in  bold  relief  against  the  morning 
sun,  as  he  passed  over  the  "  divide  "  to  Hell  Gate  Canon. 

Now,  all  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  insurance;  but  when  the  Knap- 
sack told  me  yesterday  that  I  must  have  something  for  its  columns,  I 
thought  of  Limber  Jim,  who  had  his  "  field  "  all  worked  out  "  by  hand  " 
by  a  lot  of  Chinamen,  who  utilized  the  waters  from  the  melting  snow, 
while  he  was  getting  ready  to  do  the  work  on  a  grand  scale  by  the  aid  of 
magnificent  machinery ;  and  I  wondered  whether  I  could  not  make  the 
story  fit  the  case  of  the  insurance  agent  who  wants  a  half  column  "  ad  " 
in  the  village  paper,  a  big  sign,  allowance  for  office  rent,  power  to 
appoint  "subs,"  a  bushel  of  blotters,  and  who  never  gets  through  want- 
ing something  before  he  gets  ready  to  go  to  work.  I  will  rely  upon  the 
intelligence  of  the  reader  to  trace  the  smile  without  a  "diagram." 


5<$  THE    KNAPSACK     1883 

THE  following  rhythmetical  sketch  of  what  will  occur  to-morrow 
night  has  been  ground  out  by  our  poetic  assistant ;  and,  in  anticipation, 
portrays  the  scene  which  will  follow  this  feast  of  reason  when  the  battle 
of  knives  and  forks  begins. 

IN  MEMORIAM. 

ANNUAL   BANQUET,    FEB.    2IST.,    1882. 

At  "  Dingeon's  "  when  the  sun  was  low, 
All  fiery  was  the  kitchen's  glow ; 
And  swift  and  savory  was  the  flow 
Of  potage  boiling  rapidly. 

But  Dingeon  saw  another  sight, 
When  the  gong  struck  at  seven  that  night, 
Commanding  jets  of  gas  to  light 
The  Pacific  Fire  fraternity. 

Then  rang  the  halls  with  orders  given, 
Then  waiters  rushed  by  " specials"  driven; 
And  swifter  than  the  bolts  of  Heaven 
The  ''boys"  were  seated  merrily. 

By  host  and  waiters  fast  arrayed, 
The  "adjuster"  drew  his  shining  blade, 
And,  sans  formality,  made  raid 
On  all  in  his  vicinity. 

The  banquet  deepens !  on  ye  brave  ! 
Fear  not  dyspepsia  or  the  grave ; 
Wave  Leon,  all  thy  napkins  wave, 

And  "charge"  with  strict  impunity. 

Ah !  all  must  part,  though  many  meet ; 
But  months  roll  round  with  flying  feet ; 
And  thus  again  we  hope  to  greet 
Our  seventh  anniversary. 

A    CASE    OF    ARSON. 

About  midnight,  not  many  months  ago,  the  clanging  of  the  fire  alarm 
bell  and  the  ruddy  emblazoning  of  the  fog  overhead,  called  the  citizens  of 
Gilroy  from  their  beds. 

Breathless  and  hurriedly  they  gathered  from  all  points,  and  while  some 
did  service  in  the  way  of  aiding  to  remove  a  $400  stock  from  the  locality 


THE    KNAPSACK     1883 


describing  a  $1,500  policy,  others  resolved  themselves  into  the  invariable 
"standing  committee"  on  the  sidewalk.  As  one  small  group  of  the 
numerous  body  was  conversing  about  the  peculiarity  of  the  matter  and  of 
the  many  suspicious  attending  circumstances,  one  of  the  party  said,  in  a 
manner  showing  he  was  in  earnest,  "Well,  I'm  satisfied  that's  an  incendi- 
ary fire." 

This  seemed  to  be  a  safe  proposition,  but  somehow  did  not  exactly 
meet  the  exigencies  of  the  case  in  the  mind  of  a  rough-looking  stranger 
near  by,  who  excitedly  broke  out  with  the  exclamation,  "Incendiary  be 
d — d;  somebody  set  it  afire!" 

WHAT'S   THE  USE? 

'TpHE  Knapsack  has  proportions  large  enough    and   capacity  ample 

Jl        enough,  not  to  be  compelled  to  turn  its  microscopic  eye  in  every 

direction  to  see  things  as  they  are.    The  real  knapsack  is  essential 

to  the  soldier,  and  the  old  soldier  is  a  constitutional  growler ;  ergo,  the 

California  Knapsack  has  its  growl. 

What's  the  use  of  our  getting  together  here  semi-occcasionally,  un- 
less some  good  comes  of  all  this  preparation — this  grouping  of  the 
thoughts  and  ideas  that  bother  us  during  the  year.  What's  the  use  of  one 
writing  and  reading  his  paper  here  unless  something  results  from  it  ? 

We'll  listen  to  the  emanations  of  our  Pope  on  "Local  Agents"  to- 
day, and,  at  the  risk  of  excommunication,  whip  the  devil  around  the 
stump  in  some  way  so  as  to  steal  our  neighbor's  best  agent  to-morrow. 

Chalmers  will  tell  us  what  he  thinks  about  the  best  way  of  a.-Dornin 
our  policies  with  proper  forms ;  and  then  some  smart  Aleck  will  sneak  in 
a  permission  in  a  policy  covering  a  frame  dwelling,  so  that  a  horse  and 
cow  may  be  kept  in  the  basement. 

Despite  the  advice  given  us  by  our  Clark  on  "Losses  and  Adjust- 
ments," you're  pretty  apt  to  go  right  out  and  adjust  your  loss  to  suit 
yourself  and  apply  the  rule  that  works  the  best  for  you  in  the  apportion- 
ment when  it  comes  to  contributing  to  paying  under  a  non-concurrent 
policy,  or  dividing  the  expenses  of  a  mutually  contested  case. 

Mitchell  tells  us  what  articles  should  be  considered  Staples  when  it 
comes  to  "Legislation  and  Taxation";  and  then  somebody  will  advise 
trotting  the  "sack  "up  to  Sacramento  to  stay  the  onslaught  of  Solons 
who  know  more  about  whiskey  straight  than  valued  policies  ;  more  about 
draw-poker  than  equitable  taxation ;  of  ward  clubs  than  re-insurance ; 
representatives  who  talk  and  vote,  vote  early  and  vote  often,  returning  to 
their  constituents  with  a  calm  complacency  of  a  duty  well  performed,  and 
brag  of  how  they  cinched  the  insurance  companies. 


60  THE   KNAPSACK     1883 


Our  chairman  of  the  committee  on  fire  department  and  water  supply, 
he  of  the  sepulchral  name  but  genial  features,  who  believes  in  live  issues 
and  not  those  requiring  the  attention  of  a  Sexton,  gives  you  new  ideas  of 
the  subject,  and  how  we  bleed  ourselves  to  pay  for  the  services  of  a  fire 
patrol  that  the  dear  public  may  reap  an  unrequited  benefit ;  and  at  the 
next  meeting  of  the  Board  the  assessment  comes  in  and  is  paid  without  a 
murmur. 

We  find  it  a  Cole  day  for  "Statistics"  when  he  and  Bailey  get  down 
to  real  warm  work  in  the  matter;  and  yet  you  go  on  writing  up 
"Specials"  and  bob-tail  ranges  with  a  comfort  only  based  in  the  big 
premiums  they  represent. 

Our  library  evinces  the  Spenceri<m  system  of  getting  volumes  in  great 
profusion  without  cost  to  the  Association,  which  is  heartily  to  be  com- 
mended, but  only  results  in  our  being  possessed  of  a  nice  case  of  books, 
but  seldom  referred  to,  and  is  mainly  advantageous  in  enabling  us  to  say, 
"we  have  the  finest  insurance  library  on  the  Coast." 

Grant,  the  President,  has  told  you  about  "bringing  good  into  the 
business,"  and  gives  all  kinds  of  fatherly  advice;  and  yet  you'll  pounce 
on  a  North  British  or  German- American  risk  next  week  and  laugh  with 
glee  as  the  genial  George  stands  aghast  at  your  effrontery. 

We  listen  to  good  advice  about  excessive  commissions  ruining  the 
business,  and  then  some  fair-faced  philanthropist  will  issue  a  10  per  ct. 
city  policy  through  a  20  per  ct.  Oakland  agency,  and  beat  the  best  of  us. 

We're  jolly  good  friends,  and  the  best  of  business  enemies ;  there's 
many  a  way  to  skin  a  cat  past  finding  out ;  and  so  the  Knapsack  con- 
cludes as  it  began, —  Whaf  s  the  use  ? 


THE   KNAPSACK     1884  61 


EDITORIAL,  1884.        C.   MASON   KINNE. 


CIRCULAR. 

EDITORIAL  ROOMS,  422  CALIFORNIA  STREET, 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  January  18,  1884. 

DEAR  SIR — The  Knapsack  seems  to  have  become  a  permanent 
institution  and  almost  a  matter  of  necessity.  This  result  has  been 
brought  about  by  the  valor  displayed  by  those  who  have  contributed  to 
its  contents— again  proving  the  pen  mightier  than  the  sword.  You  are 
graciously  permitted  to  know,  however,  that  another  engagement  is  im- 
pending, and  the  Knapsack  expects  every  man  to  do  his  duty. 

Some  of  you  are  like  the  old  flint-lock  musket;  a  good  deal  of 
promise,  but  plenty  of  flash-in-the-pan.  We  are  using  the  needle  gun 
now,  breech-loader  and  central  fire,  and  while  no  ammunition  will  be 
wasted,  we  can  utilize  an  almost  unlimited  quantity.  We  want  quick, 
sharp  and  decisive  reports. 

Very  earnestly  yours, 

C.  MASON  KINNE,  Editor. 

EDITORIAL. 

Our  exordium  for  the  first  issue  of  Volume  V  is  not  to  be  long.  We 
have  simply  to  say  that  this  number  is  worth  reading,  and  that  is  enough. 
The  time  has  gone  by  when  the  editor  was  worried  about  copy  ;  he  now 
only  has  to  fret  about  whose  effusions  he  shall  consider  the  least  avail- 
able—all of  which  is  just  as  it  should  be,  as  it  is  a  feature  of  our  broad- 
gauge  organization,  one  which  has  representatives  of  all  the  varied 
species  of  the  genus  insurance.  So,  within  the  protecting  flap  of  our 
Knapsack,  we  find  articles  of  all  kinds,  useful  and  ornamental,  some 
emanating  from  those  who  believe  in  that  mainstay  and  bulwark  of  the 
profession,  the  Pacific  Coast  Board;  some  from  representatives  of  the 
compact  and  energetic  California  Board ;  and  others  from  those  who 
belong  to  the  free  lances  of  the  business,  and  float  along  on  the  troub- 
lous sea  of  insurance  without  any  board  at  all.  All  have  ideas  and 
thoughts  regarding  matters  of  mutual  interest,  and  what  they  cannot 
express  in  reports  of  committees  and  on  the  floor,  find  nooks  in  our 
commodious  and  weather-beaten  Knapsack,  where  we  file  away  anec- 
dotes, suggestions,  and  such  other  supplies  as  seems  proper. 


62  THE    KNAPSACK     1884 


The  commanding  officer  who  plans  and  manages  the  interminable 
battle  of  business  and  indemnity  as  a  whole,  can  here  meet  his  own  and 
other  field  and  line  officers,  and  give  his  notions  about  how  the  fight  may 
be  bettered  in  some  important  detail.  The  officer  of  the  day — the 
special — who  unexpectedly  visits  the  outposts  in  mountains  and  valleys, 
and  gives  the  well  known  countersign  "business"  to  those  in  charge  of 
the  picket  line,  comes  home  with  a  personal  knapsack  stored  with 
information,  and  here  gives  to  all  such  of  his  experiences  as  he  thinks 
may  bring  some  good  into  the  business.  The  adjuster,  who  quietly  con- 
veys himself  as  a  scout  into  the  camp  of  the  enemy,  who  may  have  been 
playing  havoc  with  the  supplies  which  have  been  figuring  as  assets, 
returns  and  reports  to  his  chief,  and  can  now  give  to  us  some  episode  or 
new  idea  from  which  all  may  gain  a  point. 

The  divisions  of  the  great  army,  all  fighting  in  the  same  cause,  are 
commanded  and  officered  by  those  between  whom  there  is  a  natural  and 
proper  rivalry  as  to  who  shall  win  the  brightest  laurels,  but  who  meet 
here  and  give  each  other  good  advice,  strengthen  their  line  of  battle,  and 
harmonize  non-concurrent  essentials. 

Thus  we  gather  them  in,  and  the  Knapsack  fulfills  its  part  in  the  good 
work.  Here  you  have  the  emanations  from  our  brothers,  who  don't  give 
their  names,  and  who  sometimes  hit  a  blow  that  hurts,  but  never  below 
the  belt.  They  help  us  to  get  our  second  wind,  and  sometimes  talk  so 
much  like  themselves  that  you  can  put  your  finger  on  the  writer  and 
make  no  mistake. 

And  now  let  me  say  that  if  any  one  feels  aggrieved  because  his  sup- 
ply of  ammunition  was  not  thought  to  be  of  the  right  caliber  by  the  officer 
in  charge,  let  him  report  to  us  after  the  meeting,  and  holding  ourselves 
entirely  and  solely  responsible,  will  then  give  any  and  all  satisfaction  he 
may  demand.  THE  EDITOR. 

GOOD   ADVICE. 

"  Mr.  B.,  I  vould  like  to  speak  mit  you  brivately." 

"All  right,  come  into  my  back  office." 

"Mr.  B.,  you  know  my  store  vas  burned?" 

"Yes;  so  I  have  been  informed.     What  can  I  do  for  you?" 

"Veil,  I  vant  your  ad  wise  on  diss  point:  Sol  V.  says  I  burned  dat 
store,  and  Sam  V.  says  he  can  brove  it.  Now,  vat  you  dinks  I  had  bet- 
ter do?" 

"Well,  if  Sol  asserts  it  and  Sam  proves  it,  you  will  be  in  a  h — 1  of  a 
fix." 

"Veil,  I  dinks  so,  too.     Dot  is  good  adwise,  and  I  acts  on  it." 


THE   KNAPSACK     1884  63 


THE    COUNTRY    AGENT'S    LAMENT. 

BY   D.    M.    B. 

'  Twas  a  pleasant  day  in  the  month  of  June, 
A  beautiful,  sunny  afternoon, 
When,  as  I  had  often  done  before, 
I  sat  on  the  porch  of  my  country  store. 
The  farmers  were  all  at  work  afield 
Preparing  to  reap  the  summer's  yield ; 
My  family  were  all  away 
Out  in  the  country  to  spend  the  day ; 
So,  being  alone,  with  nothing  to  do, 
And  no  hope  of  trade  for  an  hour  or  two, 
I  sat  me  down  in  the  open  air, 
Lit  my  pipe  and  tipped  back  my  chair, 
The  very  picture  of  content, 
And  so  a  short  half-hour  I  spent. 
But  a  sudden  pause  came  in  my  dream, 
For  a  man  drove  up  with  a  double  team, 
And,  jumping  out,  he  seized  my  hand, 
Saying,  "You're  Mr.  Jones,  I  understand; 
And  from  what  your  neighbors  say  to  me, 
You're  just  the  man  I  want  to  see. 
I'm  the  special  of  the  world-renowned 
Owl  Fire  Insurance  Co.,  known  all  round 
As  the  strongest  company,  take  it  all  in  all, 
That  ever  was  formed  on  this  earthly  ball. 
Now,  I  want  you  to  take  our  agency, 
For  I  know  it  must  be  satisfactory ; 
Fifteen  per  cent,  commission  we  pay, 
And  I'll  put  up  a  sign  this  very  day." 
He  didn't  give  me  even  time  to  think, 
But  rushed  me  in  and  took  a  drink ; 
Nailed  up  a  sign,  ere  I  could  turn  round, 
Jumped  into  his  wagon  and  was  off  with  a  bound. 
Alas  for  me !  '  twas  an  evil  hour 
When  I  put  myself  in  that  man's  power; 
For  ever  since  then  I've  been  overrun 
With  specials  who  did  just  as  he  had  done. 
They  have  covered  with  signs  the  front  of  my  store ; 
I  expect  soon  they  '11  nail  them  across  the  door. 
There  are  American,  English,  German,  and  Greek, 


64  THE   KNAPSACK     1884 


Some  whose  names  I  can  scarcely  speak ; 

From  the  Cannibal  Islands  even  are  some, 

And  I  know  not  from  where  next  they'll  come. 

Each  one  confidentially  says  to  me 

That  my  commission  still  more  shall  be ; 

What  once  was  large,  now  seems  too  small, 

And  I  think  they  may  end  by  allowing  me  all. 

One  says,  "We  pay  losses  when  the  fire  is  done," 

Another,  "We  pay  when  it  has  just  begun." 

One  will  give  credit  for  half  the  year, 

Another  says,  "  Pay  when  renewal  is  near." 

At  New  Year  comes  a  clock,  a  knife, 

A  "chromo,"  a  breastpin  for  my  wife. 

I  have  scarcely  room  to  eat  or  sleep, 

For  my  rooms  are  covered  six  feet  deep 

With  calendars,  blotters,  cards  and  blanks. 

And  letter  paper  to  write  my  thanks  ; 

One  far-seeing  company  sent  to  me 

Diaries  for  1893. 

I  live  in  a  state  of  constant  fear 

Lest  some  new  Special  may  appear, 

And  I've  made  up  my  mind  if  a  single  one, 

From  any  company  under  the  sun, 

E'er  sets  his  foot  in  my  store  again, 

I'll  throw  up  the  whole  thing  there  and  then ; 

I'll  shovel  the  trash  right  out  of  the  door, 

And  return  to  peace  and  content  once  more. 


RUNNING   A   LOCAL   BOARD   IN   MONTANA. 

Smith,  Brown  &  Co.,  bankers,  represented  the  Grizzly  Bear  and  the 
Unicorn  insurance  companies  in  a  small  Montana  town,  but  the  town  not 
being  rated,  the  general  agents  at  Helena  carried  off  all  the  good 
risks  at  lower  rates  than  S.  B.  &  Co.  were  allowed  to  write  at.  The 
special  of  the  American  Eagle,  seeking  food  for  the  noble  bird,  called  on 
the  above  firm,  and  found  Smith,  the  local  manager  of  the  firm,  grum- 
bling because  of  losing  his  town  business,  and  wanting  to  get  out  of  a 
business  that  he  could  not  be  protected  in,  nor  compete  with  others. 
Mr.  Special  suggested  a  local  board  and  rating  the  town.  Mr.  Smith 
answered,  "No  other  agent  in  town,  and  no  one  to  make  an  agent  of." 
Mr.  Special  suggested  that  Mr.  Smith  take  the  American  Eagle,  and 


THE    KNAPSACK      1884  65 


Smith,  Brown  &  Co.  having  the  Grizzly  Bear  and  Unicorn,  Smith,  and 
Smith,  Brown  &  Co.  could  form  a  board.  This  was  agreed  to,  a  board 
formed,  the  town  rated  and  rates  printed.  Mr.  Special  put  the  rates  on 
frames  pretty  well  up,  particularly  on  a  nice  risk  in  a  log  building,  which 
was  fixed  at  7  per  cent.  This  risk  was  written  before  the  end  of  a  year 
by  Smith,  Brown  &  Co.  in  the  Grizzly  Bear  at  6  per  cent.  Mr.  Secretary 
found  by  the  special  rating  that  it  should  be  7  per  cent.,  and  sent  back 
orders  to  raise  to  7  per  cent,  or  cancel  at  once.  Upon  receipt  of  the 
order,  Mr.  Smith  referred  it  to  the  special  of  the  Unicorn,  who  happened 
along  that  day,  who  pronounced  the  rate  6  per  cent,  a  good  rate,  and 
suggested  that  the  board  meet  and  reduce  to  6  per  cent.  Acting  on  this 
hint,  Smith  immediately  wrote  to  secretary  "that  the  board  met  and  re- 
duced the  rate  to  6  per  cent"  X. 


THE  FINE  OULD   UNDERWRITING   BOARD. 

I'll  tell  you  a  fine  ould  shtory,  which  I'll  aither  sing  or  spake, 

Of  a  fine  ould  Underwriting  Board  which  for  all  the  Pacific  Coast  the 
insurance  rates  did  make, 

Except  for  some,  like  H.  &  M.,  who  always  thought  they  could  afford  a 
little  less  to  take, 

And  who  got  lots  of  business  by  this  same  token,  much  to  the  dissatis- 
faction of  others  on  the  strate. 

Yet  this  fine  ould  Underwriting  Board  was  one  of  the  rale  ould  shtock. 

So  the  Phoenix  bird  that  has  its  Home  with  Arthur  E.  Magill, 

Rose  from  its  ashes,  crowed,  cock-a-doodle-do,  and  said,  I  never  will 

See  Oakland  dwellings  filling  up  some  other  rooster's  crop 

At  SQC.  when  at  45  they'd  add  plazin'  variety  to  me  special  hazard  diet ; 

so  from  off  this  board  I'll  hop — 
From  this  fine  ould  Underwriting  Board — however  ould  its  shtock. 

Now,  this  kind  of   progress  by  the  bird  some  thought  a  fou(w)l  pro- 

ceedin' — 

In  fact,  the  flop  gave  such  a  shock,  the  board  commenced  a-teeterin' 
Until  it  looked,  indeed,  as  if  its  balance  it  would  lose 
And  fall  down  and  break  into  smithereens,  and  lave  nothin'  for  a  single 

chick  of  us  to  stand  upon  but  mud  wid  the  corn  tramped  down  into 

it  so  dape  we'd  all  be  shtarvin'  wid  the  blues — 
Did  this  fine  ould  Underwriting  Board,  all  of  the  good  ould  shtock. 


66  THE   KNAPSACK     1884 


This  might  have  been  our  plight— to  bad— had  not  a  friend  Teutonic, 

With  Easton  and  ten  companies,  jumped  on  just  as  the  other  hopped  off 
from  it, 

And  so  helped  Staples  in  the  middle  to  keep  his  seat, 

Thereby  restorin'  the  equilibrium,  and  lavin'  us  happy  as  could  be  con- 
siderin'  we  see  so  many  chicks  gettin'  fat  below,  and  so  much  corn 
rollin'  off  the  board  that  we  don't  have  half  enough  to  eat — 

Off  this  good  ould  Underwriting  Board,  all  of  the  good  ould  shtock. 

So  this  fine  ould  Board  is  not  broken  up  just  yit  in  two, 

But  if  't  had  more  on  it,  'twouldn't  be  half  so  likely  to  warp  up  or  to 

split,  but  be  just  as  good  as  new, 

And  ye'd  all  get  your  corn  nice  and  clane,  and  lots  more  of  it  too, 
And  not  be  fightin'  and   pullin'  and  turnin'   a  pacable   poultry  yard, 

figuratively  spakin',  into  a  roarin'  cock-pit,  if  you 
Would  join  this  Underwriting  Board,  made  of  good  ould  shtock. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1885  67 


EDITORIAL,  1885.        C.   MASON   KINNE. 


CIRCULAR. 

EDITORIAL  ROOMS,  422  CALIFORNIA  STREET, 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  January  30,  1885. 

To  the  Officers  and  Members  of  the  "  ist  California  Underwriters" — 

GENTLEMEN — Those  of  you  that  are  not  on  the  sick  list,  are  ex- 
pected to  provide  supplies  for  the  Knapsack  without  delay.  You  know 
what  is  needed,  and  it  would  be  useless  to  suggest  to  old  campaigners 
like  yourselves ;  but  as  the  undersigned  has  to  provide  transportation,  it  is 
quietly  hinted  that  we  would  like  to  know  by  the  loth  prox.  just  about 
how  much  hard-tack  we  shall  have  to  haul. 

It  will  depend  largely  on  yourselves  as  to  how  the  provisions  hold 
out  when  on  the  march ;  and  we  promise  to  properly  care  for  all  supplies 
sent  us. 

EDITORIAL. 

At  the  time  of  the  writing  of  this  article,  the  turning  up  of  the  flap  of 
our  Knapsack  reveals  a  yawning  breadth  and  a  cavernous  depth  of 
nothingness.  But  we  have  sent  out  our  order  for  copy,  and  will  say  a  few 
words  and  then  lay  them  carefully  away  at  the  bottom  of  our  commodious 
receptacle,  as  a  nest-egg  which  shall  soon  be  increased  by  the  outpour- 
ings from  many  a  fertile  brain  and  facile  pen. 

We  say  this  with  a  certain  degree  of  confidence,  as  the  Knap- 
sack has  become  a  feature,  if  not  a  power,  in  our  Association.  We  have 
solid  meats  served  up  to  us  by  the  various  committees  at  this  our  annual 
feast  of  reason,  but  the  Knapsack  furnishes  the  salad  and  the  dessert  that 
renders  the  regular  courses  more  palatable,  and  now  and  then  pops  in 
with  a  flow  of  sparkling  fluid  that  makes  the  still  wines  of  useful  and 
labored  addresses  all  the  more  palatable.  Add  to  this  the  aroma  and 
bouquet  of  spicy  anecdotes,  and  what  more  can  be  wished? 

Of  course,  there  may  be  a  little  of  egotism  in  all  this ;  but  as  the 
fledgling  of  six  years  ago  has  shed  its  pin-feathers  and  is  now  fully  arrayed 
in  all  the  panoply  of  adult  plumage,  and  as  we  propose  to  turn  over  our 
sanctum,  our  quill,  and  all  our  right,  title  and  interest  in  the  plant  and 


68  THE   KNAPSACK      1885 


profits  of  the  Knapsack  at  the  close  of  this  volume  to  some  fresher  and 
abler  man,  we  may  at  least  be  permitted  this  little  expiring  cackle. 

But  really,  we  have  done  some  good  with  this  frayed,  aged  and  well- 
creased  receptacle.  We  have  increased  our  capital — brains— by  the 
emanations  from  others,  and  have  gotten  many  good  ideas  evolved  by 
those  who  never  would  have  dared  to  start  in  on  a  regular  essay  over 
their  real  and  true  name.  We  have  asked,  "  What's  the  use?"  of  doing 
certain  things;  and  you  have  replied.  We  have  admonished  you, 
"  Don't  forget!"  and  some  at  least  have  borne  in  mind  the  good  things 
suggested.  We  have  given  an  opportunity  for  those  not  regularly  ap- 
pointed on  committees  to  be  heard  from  annually,  and  we  think  the 
result  has  been,  that  all  along  the  line  some  good  has  been  brought  into 
the  business. 


A  SLEEPY   AFFAIR. 

"The  Knapsack  without  its  K." 

This  is  intended  as  a  joke  on  the  editor. 


A  STRONG  ARGUMENT— A  FACT. 

A  San  Francisco  general  agency  office  having  received  word  from  one 
of  its  local  agents  at  quite  a  distant  point  of  the  total  loss  of  one  of  its 
risks,  mailed  the  local  a  blank  form  of  "Proof  of  Loss,"  and  instructed 
him  to  adjust  the  matter.  The  form  of  the  policy  covered  items  as  fol- 
lows, viz. :  $350  on  frame  building ;  $350  on  stock  of  wines,  liquors,  and 
cigars,  and  $50  on  barroom  and  household  furniture. 

When  the  proofs  were  received  at  the  San  Francisco  office,  it  was 
shown  that  the  loss  under  each  of  the  items  considerably  exceeded  the 
insurance  on  same.  But  the  local  explained  he  was  able  to  make  a 
salvage  of  $50,  as  he  had  found  out  that  a  week  or  so  before  the  fire 
occurred,  the  assured  had  sold  a  bedstead  and  the  bedding  belonging 
thereto,  for  the  sum  of  just  fifty  dollars ;  and  even  though  the  loss  on  bar- 
room and  household  furniture  amounted  to  $150,  he  thought  the  $50  the 
assured  had  received  from  the  sale  of  his  bed  was  as  good  as  the  com- 
pany's $50,  for  which  it  insured  his  furniture.  The  assured  had  but  lately 
received  $50  for  furniture.  WThat  difference  did  it  make  to  him,  whether 
he  received  it  from  one  source  or  another?  He  had  his  money;  what 
more  did  he  want?  The  local  so  argued  to  himself;  then  to  the  assured, 
and  what  is  more,  convinced  him  ! 


THE    KNAPSACK     1885  69 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  ENCHANTED  LAKE. 

AWAY  up  North,  in  the  wilds  of  Washington  Territory,  where  the 
people  live  and  wax  fat  on  the  products  of  the  skill  and  energy 
displayed  by  insurance  companies  in  picking  up  premiums  in 
other  parts  of  the  world  to  distribute  among  them ;  situated  in  a  desert  of 
alkali  sand,  where  nothing  animate  is  seen  except  occasionally  a  jackass 
rabbit  or  a  cayuse  pony,  is  located  a  dark  and  dismal  looking  lake.  It  is 
a  little  lake,  but  its  depth  is  yet  unfathomed.  Dark  volcanic  rocks  lie  in 
wild  confusion  upon  its  precipitous  banks,  as  though  at  some  time  giants 
had  hurled  them  from  some  mountain  height.  It  is  remote  from  towns 
and  little  visited  by  whites.  The  Indians  avoid  it  because  an  evil  spirit 
dwells  there.  Space  will  not  permit  me  to  relate  the  terrible  legend  con- 
nected with  this  lake,  but  I  know  the  legend  is  right  in  one  respect — the 
devil 's  in  the  lake. 

I  was  adjusting  a  loss  in  the  little  town  of  C .     The  assured 

and  myself  could  not  agree.  He  wanted  $1,100.  I  was  willing  to  pay 
$100.  He  wanted  it  badly,  and  stuck  out  long  and  valiantly.  I  told  him 
country  life  agreed  with  me,  and  I  would  stay  a  week  or  two  with  him. 
He  was  a  nice  man.  He  said  he  enjoyed  my  society,  and  would  try  and 
make  it  pleasant  for  me.  He  proposed  going  hunting.  I  borrowed  a 
handsome  shot-gun,  and  the  next  morning  he  hitched  up  his  team  and 
we  started.  Now,  I  was  not  a  gun  sharp.  I  had  not  hunted  since  I  was 
a  boy,  and  then  only  such  game  as  old  sledge,  euchre  and  rounce,  and 
I  didn't  expect  to  kill  more  than  one  or  two  ducks.  We  arrived  at 
the  hunting  ground  on  the  shore  of  this  desolate  lake— "The  Devil's 
Lake."  My  friend  had  filled  me  full  of  stories  about  this  lake  :  said  that 
the  water  was  enchanted,  etc.  But  I  didn't  feel  at  all  alarmed,  for  I 
thought  it  was  a  mighty  poor  adjuster  that  couldn't  stave  off  any  spirit 
that  lived  on  water.  I  started  up  one  side  of  the  lake,  my  friend  the 
other  side.  Ducks  were  abundant.  I  killed  two  the  first  shot — the  first 
ducks  I  had  ever  killed.  I  was  wild  with  excitement.  I  didn't  wait  to 
get  them  out  of  the  water ;  thought  I  would  wait  until  I  came  back.  I 
continued  to  kill  ducks  and  left  them  in  the  water. 

After  I  had  killed  a  thousand  ducks,  I  became  tired  of  the  slaughter, 
and  concluded  to  return  and  pick  up  my  ducks  on  the  way  back,  but 
being  tired  and  thirsty,  I  took  a  drink  of  water  from  the  lake,  and  as  it 
was  enchanted  water,  I  thought  I  would  let  spirit  fight  spirit,  and  so 
diluted  it  with  a  little  fine  old  whisky  from  my  flask.  Almost  immedi- 
ately after  drinking,  a  delightful  feeling  of  rest  came  over  me,  and  I  sat 
down  to  enjoy  it ;  but  suddenly  I  was  alarmed  by  a  most  terrific  vision. 
The  clear  sky  became  darkened.  Long  peals  of  thunder  seemed  to 


70  THE   KNAPSACK     1885 


shake  the  earth  ;  the  vivid  lightning  rent  the  clouds  into  a  thousand  frag- 
ments. The  quiet  waters  of  the  lake  were  lashed  into  a  seething  foam, 
and  from  its  surface  arose  the  thousand  ducks  I  had  killed,  and  as  they 
arose  they  changed  into  demons,  and,  leading  this  wonderful  throng  was 
a  gigantic  form  whose  hideousness  no  pen  can  describe.  I  will  not 
attempt  to  describe  him,  as  you  are  all  more  or  less  familiar  with  him. 
It  was  the  devil.  He  approached  me,  and  in  tones  that  made  every  hair 
on  my  head  stand  on  end,  said:  "Why  have  you  come  here  to  disturb 
my  rest  and  kill  my  people?  Who  are  you?  Know  you  not  the  fate 
which  awaits  the  rash  mortal  who  trespasses  here?  You  will  be  dragged 
into  this  lake  and  turned  into  a  little  devil!"  "I  beg  your  majesty's 
pardon,"  I  stammered,  "I  didn't  know  your  highness  was  so  near.  I  am 
only  a  poor  adjuster — "  I  did  not  get  any  further.  His  majesty's  face 
underwent  a  sudden  change,  and  he  looked  quite  an  amiable  fiend.  "Why 
didn't  you  say  so  before,"  he  said;  "I  am  always  glad  to  meet  one  of 
your  profession.  I  respect  ability,  and  you  are  the  only  fellow  that  can 
stand  off  my  best  subjects  on  earth.  I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  ask  you  to 
spend  a  few  days  with  me  in  my  country  seat,  but  I  hold  this  part  of  my 
domain  under  a  pretty  good  contract,  and  I  fear  that  if  one  of  your 
adjusters  get  hold  of  it,  you  will  find  that  I  have  violated  some  of  the  con- 
ditions, turn  me  out  and  run  the  business  yourself.  Don't  be  too  hard  on 
my  friends.  Good-by,"  and  he  suddenly  disappeared.  The  thunder  and 
lightning  ceased,  the  darkness  disappeared.  All  nature  was  again  at 
peace.  I  looked  for  my  gun — it  had  disappeared.  I  walked  back  over 
the  road  that  I  had  come  looking  for  my  ducks.  Not  a  duck,  dead  or 
alive  was  to  be  seen.  I  finally  found  my  friend  waiting  for  me.  He  had 
a  wagon  load  of  ducks.  He  laughed  at  my  story,  said  that  I  had  been 
asleep,  that  I  hadn't  shot  any  ducks,  that  some  tramp  had  stolen  my  gun. 
When  I  got  back  to  town,  there  was  a  great  deal  of  "treating."  I  paid 
for  it.  I  paid  the  owner  of  the  gun  $45.  As  there  was  an  adjuster's  clause 
in  my  friend's  policy,  he  saw  the  joke  when  we  settled.  The  owner  of 
the  gun  paid  me  the  $45  back,  said  he  had  another  one  and  didn't  want  to 
be  mean. 

If  any  adjuster  should  have  to  travel  in  that  part  of  the  country,  I 
would  advise  him  not  to  rely  too  much  upon  my  experience,  for  they  have 
had  so  much  experience  up  there  of  late  that  they  are  able  to  stand  off 
most  any  adjuster,  and  his  majesty  therefore  might  have  lost  his  respect 
for  the  profession.  I  don't  imagine  that  any  friend  of  mine  will  think 
otherwise  than  I  do.  I  don't  think  I  was  asleep.  I  know  I  killed  1,000 
ducks.  I  don't  think  my  friend  stole  my  gun  and  ducks.  I  think  that 
lake  is  haunted.  Up  to  that  eventful  day,  I  saw  no  reason  to  be  glad  that 


THE    KNAPSACK    1885  7; 


I  was  an  adjuster,  but  I  am  satisfied  that  if  I  had  been  anything  else,  there 
would  have  been,  on  that  occasion,  the  very  d— 1  to  pay. 


A   "STAR   COMBINATION"   CONUNDRUM. 

What  prominent  hotel  risk  would  properly  be  "star  rated,"    if  the 
rules  of  the  Pacific  Board  attached  in  New  York?    The  Astor-risk. 


A  YOUNG  ADJUSTER'S   POINTS. 

In  one  of  those  towns  up  yonder,  which  burn  with  such  regularity 
that  I  always  pack  my  grip-sack  on  the  third  Monday  in  June,  I  met  a 
special  who  gave  me  more  of  joy  than  I  had  experienced  in  thirty-six 
months,  for  he  said  a  new  thing — a  funny  thing — and  to  this  day  he 
knows  not  that  it  is  so,  which  is  the  best  of  all. 

It  was  thuswise :  For  reasons  of  importance  it  was  necessary  tp  re- 
duce the  builder's  estimate  to  the  minimum.  Hence  each  item  was 
scanned,  examined  and  talked  about  to  that  extent  that  the  worthy  con- 
tractor gave  signs  of  rising  irritation. 

Window-glass  was  under  discussion,  when  suddenly  my  special  gave 
a  start,  his  eyes  bulged  out,  he  gasped  for  breath,  and  in  a  tragic  voice 
exclaimed : 

1 '  Glazier's  points  ?  fifty  cents  ?  FIFTY  CENTS  ?  ?  ?  Why,  my  dear 
sir,  any  glazier  would  be  perfectly  willing  to  give  you  all  the  information 
you  require  for  nothing!  ' ' 

A  SPECIMEN  WITNESS  IN   AN   ARSON  CASE. 

An  adjuster  holding  an  inquest  on  the  stove-pipes,  nails,  door-locks 
and  hinges,  iron  hooks,  tin  cans,  and  other  fire-proof  remains  of  a  cow- 
boy town  in  New  Mexico  during  the  lively  times  of  1882,  learned  that  a 
valuable  witness — a  deputy  sheriff,  who  knew  all  about  the  fire  and  the 
parties  who  started  it,  who  was  cow-ranching  a  few  miles  out — would  be 
in  town  that  evening,  and  as  such  a  chance  to  get  out  of  paying  a  loss 
was  not  to  be  missed,  Mr.  Adjuster  laid  for  him,  and  a  little  after  dusk 
found  his  man,  who  was  fixed  with  a  big  pistol  on  each  hip  and  a  half 
bottle  of  whisky  in  his  bosom,  his  appearance  and  gait  leaving  no  doubt 
as  to  the  disposition  of  the  other  half  of  the  bottle  of  whisky. 

An  adjournment  to  the  plaza,  away  from  eavesdroppers,  was  neces- 
sary, and,  after  patiently  listening  to  a  little  of  everything  except  evidence 
in  relation  to  the  fire,  and  being  a  little  nervous,  Mr.  Adjuster  said: 


72  THE    KNAPSACK      1885 

"Mr.  Sheriff,  your  testimony  might  be  of  some  use  before  a  vigilance 
committee,  but  would  not  do  in  court.  You  know  enough  of  court  pro- 
ceedings to  understand  this."  "  Know  enough  of  coiyt  proceedings," 
said  the  would-be  witness ;  "I  guess  I  do.  I  was  tried  for  murder  three 
times  in  this  county." 

Mr.  Adjuster's  heart  came  up  in  his  throat,  and  inviting  the  witness 
to  the  nearest  saloon  to  take  a  parting  nip,  quietly  and  gently  let  go  of 
him,  paid  a  total  loss  and  retired  in  good  order. 


A   MIGHTY   NIMROD. 

TT  T  IS  not  often  we  get  an  opportunity  to  repay  the  pensive  proprietor 
11  of  the  Coast  Review  for  the  many  little  attentions  of  a  personal 
nature  scattered  like  "chips"  through  the  columns  of  his  journal. 
It  is  with  pleasure  at  the  originality  of  the  sensation,  also  with  good 
natural  liberality,  that  I  give  away  the  incident  which  comes  at  second 
hand,  but  is  high. 

Listen  !  In  the  season  for  rest  and  recreation  he  fled  from  business 
cares  to  the  mountains.  Loaded  to  the  muzzle  with  traps,  he  went  off — 
discharged  himself  so  to  speak — his  aim,  amusement,  heaven  save  the 
mark! 

In  due  course  of  time  those  of  us  who  knew  him  least,  were  startled 
to  hear  of  his  deadly  use  of  the  rifle.  We  knew  of  his  " game"  hand, 
also  his  skillful  use  of  the  tomahawk,  but  were  surprised  to  hear  that 
each  day  he  brought  to  the  camp  the  body  of  a  fine  deer,  each  deer  shot 
through  the  heart  by  a  single  ball.  Old  hunters  sought  him  out.  Lady 
campers  from  other  springs  came  to  gaze  at  him.  Newspapers  made 
mention  of  it.  The  members  of  his  favorite  club  dined  on  venison  sent 
with  his  compliments.  In  short,  with  modest  pride  he  consented  to  be 
the  hero  of  the  hour.  Here  the  story  ends  to  make  way  for  facts. 

Last  spring  an  overworked  special  was  told  by  his  doctor  to  ' '  let 
up,"  or  die.  He  preferred  to  die,  but  was  persuaded  to  seek  the  balsam 
of  the  redwoods.  Here  he  found  a  trout  stream  and  an  old  woodsman. 
His  winsome  ways  won  that  woodman's  soul;  one  day  in  a  burst  of 
remorseful  grief  the  woodsman  confided  to  him  his  one  great  sin — which 
like  the  worm  in  the  bud  gnawed  ever  at  his  heart,  and  like  a  deep  toned 
bell  rang  ever  in  his  ear,  de-ceit-de-ceit-de-ceit.  This  was  the  story: 
Once  upon  a  time  dazed  by  the  sight  of  gold,  his  scruples  overcome  by 
the  sweet  voice  of  the  tempter,  in  an  evil  hour,  after  vain  spasms  of 
resistance,  he  fell.  Each  day  for  five  successive  days  at  a  secure  hour  he 


THE    KNAPSACK     1885 


brought  to  the  wily  stranger  the  dead  body  of  a  deer,  each  deer  shot 
through  the  heart,  and  for  this  act  he  received  the  gold  which  ever  since 
had  been  to  him  a  curse.  Faintly  breathing  the  great  journalist's  name, 
the  woodsman  fell  into  a  deep  swoon.  Suffice  it  to  say  the  special  agent 
by  the  power  vested  him  by  his  sacred  calling,  absolved  the  man  and 
parting  bade  him  go  and  sin  no  more.  It  is  now  brother  Edwards'  turn  to 
"chip"  or  "pass  the  buck." 


RABBIT-STEW— A   LA  FARNSWORTH. 

'Twas  way  up  in  the  mountains,  and  the  sun  was  pouring  down, 

While  tree  and  bush  were  quivering  as  the  over-heated  ground 

Reflected  back  the  fervency  of  Nature's  strong  caress, 

And  the  youthful  green  of  spring  had  assumed  its  summer  dress ; 

When  a  group  of  sweltering  specials  came  swinging  down  the  road 

Mid  clouds  of  dust  and  rattling  wheels.     'Twas  an  awful  silent  load  ; 

Their  gems  of  thought  and  jokes  had  risen  with  the  sun, 

Been  offered  to  each  other  with  an  interspersing  pun, 

Till  everybody  tired  of  the  almost  ceaseless  chatter, 

And  the  wheels  were  left  to  roll  with  never-ending  clatter. 

Some  miles  were  traversed  thus,  and  we  all  were  getting  crusty, 

The  horses  getting  wearied,  and  everything  quite  dusty, 

When  a  pair  of  cotton-tails  came  jumping  from  the  brush, 

And  darted  'cross  the  road  with  kangaroo-like  rush. 

A  shout  from  all  in  chorus  was  followed  by  request 

That  Ned  should  pull  his  shooter  and  prove  to  all  the  rest 

That  his  early-morning  boast  of  steadiness  of  aim, 

Was  not  an  emanation  from  his  ever  active  brain. 

The  team  was  stopped  instanter  and  out  he  quickly  stepped, 

While  cotton-tail  sat  quiet  as  closer  up  Ned  crept ; 

Then  halted,  raised  his  arm  and  accurate  he  drew 

A  bead  on  little  rabbit.    We  all  wanted  rabbit-stew 

To  add  to  the  lunch  in  waiting  at  the  famous  "  Boston  Ranch," 

So  hardly  dared  to  breathe,  or  any  more  than  glance. 

The  silence  grew  intense,  till  the  pistol  loudly  popped — 

The  rabbit  gave  a  kick  ;  his  further  ear  he  flopped  ; 

But  never  moved  his  body  from  the  bloodless  scene  of  slaughter,  (?) 

While  we  fortified  ourselves  with  another  drink — of  water. 

We  offered  some  to  Ned,  for  mounting  to  his  brow 

We  saw  the  deadly  purpose — it's  never  or  it's  now; 

But  gracefully  declining,  he  pointed  Smith  and  Wesson 


74  THE   KNAPSACK     1885 


At  foolish  Mr.  Rabbit,  who  should  be  taught  the  lesson 

That  only  he  who  kicks  and  smartly  runs  away, 

May  ever  live  to  kick  upon  some  other  day. 

Again  we  held  our  breath  ;  again  did  Snyder  shout, 

As  the  living  target  winked  and  simply  turned  about, 

Till  the  cottony  appendage  which  giveth  it  the  name, 

Gleamed  in  all  its  splendor,  and  like  the  glowing  flame 

Of  deceptive  ignis  fatuus,  led  our  marksman  on  once  more, 

To  try  another  shot  and  drench  the  ground  with  gore. 

Again  the  echoes  sounded  from  the  foothills  lying  shimmering ; 

Again  the  sun  looked  down;  hot,  and  hotter  glimmering; 

Again  the  rabbit  kicked  ;  again  did  all  look  sad, 

For  cotton-tail  had  skipped.    The  words  Ned  said  were  bad 

As  he  reluctantly  got  in  and  we  started  on  the  team ; 

For  we  knew  it  all  had  happened ;  he  thought  it  was  a  dream. 


: 


THE    KNAPSACK     1886  75 


EDITORIAL  1886.        GEO.  F.  GRANT. 


EDITORIAL. 

IN  presenting  to  you  the  contents  of  the  Knapsack  at  this  tenth 
annual  meeting,  I  am  depressed  by  the  solemnity  of  the  wit  and 
humor  therein  contained,  which  is  but  partly  relieved  by  the  fun 
of  the  pathos  interspersed  through  its  pages.  How  true  it  is  that  experi- 
ence alone  can  surely  teach. 

From  a  cheering  notion  that  the  position  of  editor  on  a  paper  like  the 
Knapsack  was  one  of  pleasant  relaxation  and  profitable  enjoyment,  I  have 
learned  to  regard  it  as  a  trap  for  the  unwary,  where,  having  become  en- 
tangled, one  can  make  a  free  spectacle  for  the  curious  gaze,  only 
"breaking  out"  by  means  of  a  cold  perspiration,  and  thus  by  the  sweat 
of  his  face  earn  his  freedom. 

What's  in  a  name?  A  Knapsack  by  any  other  name  would  be  as 
melancholy;  yet  have  I  thought  the  "Gripsack"  a  more  appropriate  title, 
for  from  such  a  traveled  article  have  I  taken  these  choice  contributions 
during  the  last  twelve  months,  and  in  every  quarter  of  the  Pacific  Coast 
have  I  struggled  with  them,  pounding  them  into  shape  for  your  delecta- 
tion, disguising  them  with  what  ingenuity  I  could,  that  the  Commission  of 
Lunacy  in  its  official  capacity  might  pass  the  matter  without  finding  a  true 
bill.  Whatever  you  may  find  of  a  painful  nature,  kindly  consider  it  the 
work  of  the  editor,  but  if  by  chance  you  meet  a  chestnut  still  in  the  burr, 
that,  dear  reader,  is  a  "contribution." 

When  you  stop  to  think,  (provided  you  do  not  evolve  ideas  while  in 
motion)  this  Pacific  Coast  presents  a  most  alluring  cover  for  an  under- 
writer. Insurance  is  an  out  of  door  business,  ours  is  an  out  of  door 
climate.  For  seven  and  thirty  years  our  Coast  reputation  has  lived  on  air 
(barring  mineral),  within  that  time  insurance  people  have  waxed  fat  and 
lazy  over  easily  acquired  net  surplus,  also  the  result  of  wind.  We  are 
superior  to  our  more  Southern  neighbors,  who  are  popularly  supposed  to 
distort  facts  in  the  morning  and  lie  in  the  shade  of  an  afternoon,  but  all 
the  same  we  are  the  most  brotherly  lot  of  antagonists  extant. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  march  of  civilization,  including  the  influx 
of  insurance  talent  from  the  Atlantic,  has  disturbed  our  semi-tropical 
habits,  although  they  have  made  it  warm  enough  for  us  in  all  conscience, 


76  THE   KNAPSACK     1886 

while  as  a  direct  result,  low  rates  and  increasing  fires  have  rendered  it  red 
hot,  with  an  ever  rising  thermometer ;  you  will  find  this  more  elaborately 
stated  in  the  annual  statistical  chart. 

But  in  spite  of  all  opposition,  good  nature  and  modesty  will  charac- 
terize insurance  people  on  the  Coast  for  some  years.  Our  modesty  is  but 
half  understood.  It  is  this  quality  which  prevents  the  solicitor  from  being 
a  bore ;  it  also  impels  the  assured  to  yield  lest  he  wound  the  sensitive 
nature  of  the  broker.  It  is  modesty  which  calls  a  halt  to  this  editorial. 


OH!  FELLERS,  OH!  FELLERS,  SOLDIERS!  SOLDIERS!! 

EDITOR  Knapsack — I  received  your  order  for  supplies,  and  I  have 
tried  to  think  what  I  could  do  or  say  that  would  result  in  filling  an  accept- 
able corner  of  your  voluminous  receptacle. 

I  have  tried,  tried  hard,  but  it  seems  to  be  of  no  use.  I  have  plenty 
of  fixed  ammunition,  but  I  can't  seem  to  make  it  fit  your  bore.  My 
calibre  is  too  small  for  the  Knapsack's  blunderbuss,  and  I  don't  want  to 
have  it  scatter  too  much. 

Again,  too,  the  knapsack,  properly  speaking,  is  a  useful  receptacle 
for  more  things  than  are  intended  to  comfort  and  make  pleasant  the  life 
of  a  campaigner.  But,  are  you,  Mr.  Editor,  aware  that  it  is  one  of  the 
first  things  he  throws  aside  when  he  is  tired  and  worn,  and  every  ounce 
weighs  a  pound.  Yes,  the  knapsack,  with  all  its  odds  and  ends,  its  relics 
of  early  comforts  and  necessities  of  army  life ;  its  remembrances  of  home, 
its  bible  and  pack  of  cards,  its  pins  and  pills,  its  threads  and  plasters,  all 
have  to  go  before  the  reliable  haversack  is  thought  too  heavy.  Yet,  when 
on  a  long  tramp,  and  rations  are  getting  short — for  you  have  eaten  them — 
you  look  about  for  further  useless  encumbrances,  then  what  goes?  Why, 
that  greasy  old  friend  which  smells  of  sow-belly  and  coffee,  with  its  few 
crumbs  of  hard  tack  and  grains  of  sugar,  is  quietly  chucked  into  the 
nearest  fence  corner,  and  on  you  plod  with  blistered  feet  and  ponderous 
musket,  wishing  that  night  or  the  enemy  might  cause  the  dusty  ranks  to 
halt. 

But  on  you  go,  with  bending  back  and  sweating  brow,  and  at  every 
swing  the  cadence  of  your  personal  route-step  is  relieved  by  the  rhyth- 
mical pressure  of  a  faithful  companion  that  is  almost  a  caress  in  its  cling- 
ing and  lingering  contact.  It  is  your  old  canteen,  that  has  been  a  solace 
and  a  joy  forever ;  rusty,  musty,  battered  and  worn,  it  is  faithful  unto  the 
last.  The  very  name  brings  to  mind  thoughts  of  days  gone  by,  and 
causes  the  pulse  of  old  age  to  leap  with  the  ardor  of  youth.  Dull  prose 


THE   KNAPSACK     1886  77 


will  not  do,  and  in  rhyme  alone  can  the  poetry  of  thought  of  those  who 
have  drank  from  the  same  canteen  be  adequately  expressed.  I  am  in  no 
mood  to  offer  excuses  for  what  and  how  I  shall  write,  but  if  any  apology 
is  necessary,  then  choose  another  name  for  your  journal,  or  else  expect 
the  veteran  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago  to  say  something  in  the  Knap- 
sack about 

THE  OLD  CANTEEN. 

How  dear  to  my  heart  are  the  scenes  of  the  army, 

As  fond  recollection  presents  them  to  view. 
The  guard-house  and  sick-call ;  the  cunning  grey  louses ; 

Those  dear  little  insects  that  each  of  us  knew. 
The  sutler's  old  tent  and  his  outrageous  prices, 

The  little  brush  house  in  the  rear  with  its  smell ; 
But  dearer  than  these  is  the  faithful  old  canteen, 

The  battered  old  canteen  we  all  loved  so  well. 

The  rusty  old  canteen,  the  blanket-wrapped  canteen, 

The  battered  old  canteen  we  all  loved  so  well. 

That  blanket- wrapped  canteen  was  hailed  as  a  treasure, 

For  often  at  night  when  returned  from  a  scout, 
We  found  it  a  source  of  hilarious  pleasure, 

As  the  apple-jack  gurgled  from  its  copious  spout. 
How  ardent  we  seized  it  with  hands  that  were  grimy  ; 

How  quickly  the  fluid  into  our  open  mouths  fell 
From  the  faithful  old  canteen  that  in  fancy  is  by  me, 

The  battered  old  canteen  we  all  loved  so  well. 
The  apple-jack  canteen ;  the  musty  old  canteen, 
The  battered  old  canteen  we  all  loved  so  well. 

Whether  filled  with  pure  water  from  the  streams  as  we  crossed  them, 

Or  conveying  fresh  milk  from  the  cool  spring-house  floor ; 
We  think  of  the  thing  as  of  friends  when  we've  lost  them, 

And  burn  with  desire  for  its  jingling  once  more. 
So  now,  far  removed  from  the  battle  field  gory, 

The  tear  of  regret  will  intrusively  swell, 
As  fancy  recalls  the  camp-fire  and  story, 

And  sighs  for  the  canteen  we  all  loved  so  well. 
The  rusty  old  canteen  ;  the  battered  old  canteen ; 
The  faithful  old  canteen  we  all  loved  so  well. 


78  THE    KNAPSACK     1886 


But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  insurance?  Simply  this.  Draw  a 
moral  from  "the  old  canteen."  As  specials,  fill  your  Knapsack  with  the 
requisites  of  such  soldiers  in  the  field,  so  that  you  can  produce  lots  of 
reliable  capital  and  comforting  assets  from  its  bulky  depths.  Keep  in 
your  haversack  the  salt  and  sugar  of  your  vocation ;  truthful  records  of 
premiums  and  losses  to  show  that  your  brigade  is  active  and  aggressive ; 
can  win  victories  and  suffer  defeats,  always  ready  for  duty  on  the  line  of 
battle  with  a  purpose  to  stay  and  fight  it  out  if  it  takes  all  summer. 

If  Texas  hurts,  quit  it.  If  Idaho  frames  foolish  laws,  jump  the  ter- 
ritory, but  don't  give  up  the  ship,  and  remember  always,  that  the  oil  of  the 
machinery  is  in  your  hands,  and  like  the  canteen  of  yore,  the  special  must 
learn  how  to  use  the  can.  An  agent  kicks ;  you  are  the  one  to  pour  oil 
on  the  troubled  waters.  Explain  all  about  insurance  to  him.  Rates, 
commissions,  losses,  hazards  (moral,  immoral  and  physical)  and  every- 
thing else  must  be  squirted  and  poured  out  from  your  fertile  cruse,  and 
like  the  widow's  of  old,  don't  let  it  run  dry. 

The  company  is  the  knapsack,  with  its  essentials  to  rely  upon  in  case 
of  a  rainy  day.  The  insuring  public,  the  haversack  which  feeds  us  and 
provides  the  supplies  for  the  hungry  claimant.  But  the  special  and  ad- 
juster is  the  old  canteen  which  moistens  the  parched  tongue  and  dry  lips 
of  the  faint-hearted  agent  or  famishing  sufferer.  With  kind  words  and 
just  acts,  he  so  lubricates  the  one  and  washes  away  the  troubles  of  the 
other,  that  happiness  reigns  at  home  and  abroad. 

Keep  yourselves  filled  with  the  pure  waters  of  integrity,  the  milk  of 
human  kindness,  and  the  stimulating  apple-jack  of  devotion  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  your  profession  generally,  and  to  your  own  company  in  particu- 
lar. Then  will  the  manager,  the  agent  and  the  assured,  each  be  glad  to 
drink  from  your  depths,  imbibe  solace  from  your  every  act,  and  all  will 
say,  long  live  THE  OLD  CANTEEN. 


SCARCELY  an  hour  passes  that  the  mind  of  man  does  not  assert  its 
superiority  over  mere  conventional  rules.  Said  my  friend  the  broker  to 
his  client :  "  I  cannot  rebate  by  as  much  as  a  penny ;  I  cannot  divide  com- 
missions with  you — it  is  against  the  rules — but,  my  friend,  you  shall  take 
lunches  at  my  expense  for  thirty  days.  Shall  I  write  it  up?  Thank 
you." 

EDITOR  Knapsack— Mr.  Willikin  Sale  lost  his  dwelling  by  fire. 
The  claim  was  paid.  Was  this  a  sale  to  the  insurance  company? 
Answer:  It  was  a  sail,  directly  he  raised  the  wind. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1886  79 


A  SSOCIATE  HIKE  of  New  York  says:   No  you  don't!    That's  just 

JT\±      the  sort  of  mendicant  I  am  myself!     I  have  had  the  Monitor 

scrap  basket  strapped  to  my  back  for  seventeen  years,  and  I  am  a 

habitual  "picker  up  of  unconsidered  trifles,"  but  they 'all  go  regularly 

and  inevitably  into  the  insatiate  hopper  of  that  bottomless  pit ! 

I  am  everlastingly  pouring  in,  like  Mark  Twain's  bluejay  into  the  hole 
in  the  roof  of  the  deserted  cabin,  but  I  shall  never  get  it  full  any  more 
than  did  the  bluejay  aforesaid.  I  am  sorry  for  you,  but  you  can't  get  a 
single  cent's  worth  of  fun  out  of  me,  nor  a  reminiscence,  nor  nothing. 

As  you  appear  to  be  in  the  same  condition  as  the  boy  who  was  dig- 
ging for  the  woodchuck,  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  "come  down";  but 
I  think  you  may  be  perfectly  certain  of  getting  the  flattest  sort  of  prov- 
ender jfrom  me,  because  whenever  a  man  undertakes  to  be  funny,  or 
bright,  or  smart  to  order,  he  is  pretty  sure  to  serve  his  dish  underdone 
or  overdone,  or  hurt  it  in  some  way  in  the  cooking.  Nevertheless,  I 
will  in  my  great  compassion  remember  you,  and  will  endeavor  to  furnish 
something  fof  your  Knapsack,  if  nothing  more  than  a  soiled  shirt  or  a 
rumpled  collar. 

Here  it  is : 

A   REASONABLE   CLAIMANT! 

The  fire  was  a  small  matter.  The  stove-pipe  had  run  through  the 
ceiling  many  years,  and  the  double  thimble  which  surrounded  it  had 
somehow  got  crushed  so  that  the  heat  had  gradually  charred  the  wood- 
work, and  one  cold  day  last  month  an  extra  boom  in  the  old  stove 
ignited  the  trap  overhead  and  created  a  brief  household  panic.  A  few 
dippers  of  water  put  out  the  fire,  but  the  whole  Pacific  Ocean  could  not 
quench  the  distress,  mental  and  financial,  which  raged  in  the  bosom  of  ye 
gentle  claimant. 

In  due  time  the  gentlemanly  adjuster  arrived  on  the  scene,  and  the 
lady  whose  property  had  been  the  prey  of  the  fire  fiend,  thus  addressed 
him:  "In  the  first  place,  I  want  money  to  pay  those  friends  who  helped 
me  put  out  the  fire,  and  then  I  want  your  company  to  take  immediate 
steps  to  have  a  better  arrangement  of  the  pipes  and  the  supply  of  water 
near  my  property  if  I  am  to  continue  to  give  you  my  business.  And 
now  in  regard  to  repairs :  all  these  rooms  have  got  to  be  torn  out  and 
rebuilt ;  I  am  not  going  to  have  any  smoked  walls  or  blackened  timbers 
about  my  house.  You  needn't  try  to  get  out  of  it,"  continued  she, 
observing  the  deprecatory  air  and  the  argumentative  attitude  which  the 
adjuster  was  assuming ;  and  she  went  on  with  great  volubility  and  elo- 
quence to  enumerate  in  detail  the  inevitable  carpenterings,  and  paintings, 


8o  THE    KNAPSACK     1886 


and  plasterings  and  paperings  which  would  have  to  be  done — and  right 
away,  too ! 

After  much  long  suffering,  the  crushed  adjuster  got  a  chance  to 
remark  that  it  was  a  case  of  great  importance  and  intricacy ;  that  he 
hardly  felt  equal  to  its  settlement  unaided,  and  suggested  an  appraisement 
by  competent  disinterested  parties.  She  might  select  some  distinguished 
architect  or  builder,  a  friend  of  hers,  who  would  see  that  her  interests 
were  duly  protected,  and  he  would  select  another  competent  and  honest 
contractor  or  carpenter.  She  bit  at  the  idea,  and  the  wily  villain  got  her 
signature  to  an  appraisement  paper  on  the  spot !  Appraisers  were  duly 
appointed,  and  the  heartless  wretches  returned  an  award  of  fourteen  dol- 
lars and  twenty-seven  cents.  The  sequel  showed  its  inaccuracy,  for  the 
man  who  finally  did  the  repairs  made  a  clean  profit  of  ten  dollars  out  of 
the  job.  Herein  do  we  see  the  soulless  nature  of  bloated  corporations! 


TIFFANY'S  Instruction  Book  contains  this  advice :  "Agents  should  re- 
member that  the  expense  incident  to  telegraphing  is  a  matter  of  no  little 
importance,  especially  when  a  company  is  doing  an  extended  agency 
business."  The  agent  who  sent  the  following  telegram  "collect,"  never 
had  the  advantage  of  Tiffany's  acquaintance. 

The  dispatch  reads:  "Send  me  rate  on  wardrobe,  scenery,  organ, 
violin,  wagon  and  jewelry  of  small  traveling  show,  estimated  value  about 
one  thousand  dollars.  Answer  immediately." 

My  reply  by  letter  said:  "Rate  one  hundred  and  fifteen  per  cent., 
with  ^  limit  and  watchman  clause  in  policy,"  but  by  the  time  the  mail 
arrived  the  show  was  stranded  in  an  adjoining  town,  and  was  subsequently 
sold  at  auction  for  $375 ! 


AFTER  four  days'  hard  adjusting  work  at  Red  Bluff  last  summer,  a 
small  evening  entertainment  was  tendered  by  the  charming  wife  of  a  local 
agent.  Seated  on  the  veranda  enjoying  after-dinner  cigars,  the  talk 
turned  naturally  to  losses  and  adjustments. 

Said  the  Colonel,  "My  work  represents  $42,000,  and  I  have  drawn 
checks  in  payment  of  that  amount."  This  aroused  a  judge  of  local  fame 
and  noted  peculiarities.  " Forty-two  thousand  dollars!"  said  he;  "why, 
I  never  saw  any  mention  of  it  in  the  newspapers." 

"Of  course  not,"  said  the  Colonel,  indignantly,  "you  don't  advertise 
the  fact  of  doing  a  plain  duty,  do  you?  You  don't  put  it  in  the  paper 
when  you  pay  your  butcher  bill,  do  you?"  "No,"  said  the  judge,  "I 
never  did;  but  no  doubt  the  butcher  would — if  I  paid  him." 


THE   KNAPSACK      1886  Si 


A   DEFINITION. 

A  SPECIAL  agent  in  the  field  gets  at  the  true  inwardness  of  many  a 
racy  scheme.     He  unearths  the  plans  of  many  a  rival  office   to 
control  agents  and  business.     If  he  is  wise  he  makes  a  mental 
note  and  files  it  away  in  the  recesses  of  his  mind  for  appropriate  refer- 
ence, good  naturedly  pursuing  his  journey. 

If  he  is  dyspeptic  he  exposes  the  sophistry,  ridicules  the  sentimental 
slobber,  unhinges  the  logic,  and  "cuts  a  watermelon."  Generally  gets 
himself  disliked  even  where  he  is  not  feared,  and  in  compact  times  drifts 
to  the  rear  with  the  other  tide  wash. 

These  gentle  words  are  called  forth  by  the  recollection  of  an  incident 
in  which  some  good  fellows  figured.  One  was  a  large-minded,  well-to-do 
local  agent,  and  like  all  locals  with  means,  he  controlled  a  big  business. 
He  was  a  prosperous,  self-made  man,  and  was  sometimes  requested  to 
adjust  losses,  which  he  did  with  laborious  earnestness. 

At  the  time  of  my  story,  with  an  anxious  eye  and  apologetic  mein,  he 
laid  a  gnawing  trouble  before  one  of  the  boys  traveling  his  way.  This 
boy  was  a  genial,  fun-loving  special  as  ever  scalped  a  scalper.  After 
some  time  and  a  good  deal  of  preliminary  consultation,  a  letter  from  the 
office  was  produced.  The  letter  was  the  main  trouble.  It  seemed  that 
at  a  recent  adjustment  where  policies  were  not  concurrent,  one  adjuster 
had  settled  up  satisfactorily  with  a  fifty  per  cent,  payment,  while  the 
proofs  of  our  friend  showed  a  total  loss  on  the  same  plant.  He  had 
given  the  manager  all  the  facts  of  the  case,  but  that  fifty  per  cent,  salvage 
for  the  other  company  was  as  gall  and  wormwood  at  headquarters. 
Hence  the  letter,  which  insinuated  that  since  it  didn't  come  naturally,  it 
should  have  been  forced.  Hence  the  disturbed  state  of  the  honest  local's 
mind. 

"  I  don't  mind  their  criticism  so  much,"  said  he,  "  I  done  the  best  I 
knew  how,  fair  and  square,  but  what  worries  me  is  the  doggone  gibber- 
ish I  don't  understand.  I  can  read  American  language,  but  this  Dutch 
lingo  gets  me ;  besides,  it  seems  as  if  they  were  saying  something  mean 
about  Arthur,  the  other  adjuster,  you  know,  and  I  won't  have  it.  He 
acted  white  all  the  way  through."  A  glance  showed  the  objectionable 
feature  of  the  letter  to  be  as  follows : 

' '  As  for  Mr.  Arthur,  from  a  long  and  varied  experience,  our  advice 
for  your  future  guidance  is  that  you  take  his  ipse  dixit  cum  grano 
salts." 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "you  have  read  the  letter.    What's  it  all  about ;  what 
does  it  mean?" 

"Mean?"  said  his  genial  listener  with  a  beaming  smile  and  a  reas- 


82  THE   KNAPSACK     1886 


suring  tone  ;  "it  means  that  whatever  you  hear  Arthur  say,  you  bet  your 
life  it's  so." 

"Right  they  are,  by  gosh,"  said  the  local. 


HIS   LAST  TRIP. 

£  (S  If  HAVE  taken  my  last  trip ;  I  am  going  home,"  said  he  as  the  clock 
II  struck  the  midnight  hour.  The  nurse  looked  at  the  doctor  with 
a  significant  glance  and  whispered,  "His  mind  wanders." 

Presently  he  lifted  his  feverish  head  from  the  pillow. 

"Any  letters  from  the  manager?"  he  inquired,  "there  ought  to  be 
letters  here." 

Then  he  slept,  and  in  his  sleep  he  was  a  boy  again,  babbled  of  fish- 
ing streams  far  up  among  the  pines  and  cedars  of  the  mountains,  where 
the  trout  played ;  of  school  days,  and  of  those  who  had  been  his  com- 
panions in  the  misty  past,  while  the  wild  winds  of  an  Arizona  desert 
rattled  the  windows  of  the  little  inn  where  he  lay. 

At  one  he  suddenly  awakened. 

"All  right!"  he  exclaimed  in  a  strong  voice,  "I'm  ready."  He 
thought  the  porter  had  called  him  for  an  early  train.  The  doctor  laid  a 
soothing  hand  upon  his  brow,  and  he  slept.  In  his  sleep  he  murmured : 

"  Business,  my  boy,  we  want  business  ;  what  have  you  done?  That's 
a  good  risk,  who  took  it?  I  must  get  business.  I'm  off,  good-bye." 

He  dozed  off,  and  the  doctor  counted  his  pulse ;  suddenly  the  sick 
man  started  up. 

"Give  me  a  letter  from  home.  Ellen  always  writes  to  me  here.  She 
never  disappointed  me  yet,  and  the  children — they  will  forget  me  if  my 
trips  are  too  long — only  one  more  stop  to  make,  and  I  will  be  home — 
home — home  for  Christmas." 

He  slept  again,  and  again  wakened  with  a  start. 

"No  word  from  the  manager  yet?" 

He  is  going  fast  now ;  the  doctor  bent  over  him,  and  whispered  in  a 
comforting  voice  the  words  of  promise : 

"  In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions.  If  it  were  not  so  I  would 
have  told  you." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  the  dying  man  faintly,  "it  was  a  clean  loss,  and 
shall  be  paid  promptly.  Ah,  a  splendid  company  that — deals  fair  and 
square  with  its  customers  and  men." 

The  chill,  cold  morning  dawned,  the  end  was  very  near.  The  sick 
man  was  approaching  that  undiscovered  land  where  all  losses  are  honest 


THE    KNAPSACK      1886  83 


and  all  claimants  are  fair ;  that  mysterious  land  from  whose  bourne  no 
traveler  returns. 

"I'm  going  off  the  road;"  he  murmured  faintly,  "the  manager  has 
sent  for  me.  Write  to  Ellen  and  the  children  that  I  am  coming— coming — 
her  picture  and  address— in  my  breast  pocket— call  me  for  the  first  stage — 
it's  my  last  trip,  and  I'll  see  Ellen  and  the  children  on  Christmas. 

They  laid  his  head  back  on  the  pillow ;  he  had  finished  his  trip— he 
had  gone  home  for  Christmas. 


HE  had  been  appointed  but  a  short  time,  and  his  letters  gave  evi- 
dence of  unusual  zeal  and  intelligence.  At  last  he  sent  in  a  daily  report—- 
an excellent  risk.  The  next  day  came  another — a  duplicate  of  the  first ; 
and  so  day  after  day^  he  poured  in  daily  reports  of  the  same  risk,  all  in 
first-class  order.  In  reply  to  a  telegram,  he  said  that  the  printed  instruc- 
tions on  the  blank  read,  "To  be  forwarded  daily,  application  and  survey 
must  accompany  each  report."  "Now,"  said  he,  "if  I  have  not  followed 
instructions,  what  have  I  done?" 


ANOTHER  good  fellow,  bent  on  following  instructions,  if  it  broke  him 
all  up,  after  receiving  supplies  transferred  from  a  former  agent,  sent  in  his 
first  account  current  promptly,  embracing  not  only  the  premiums  for  the 
month,  but  a  copy  of  all  the  business  shown  on  his  register,  and  this  it 
seems  was  his  idea  of  what  was  required  for  all  future  statements,  a 
monthly  recapitulation  of  all  outstanding  risks,  and  yet  he  proved  to  be 
an  excellent  solicitor. 


MANY  of  you  will  recognize  a  familiar  note  in  the  following  bit  of 
"human  nature:" 

"That  durned  speckled  critter  with  a  broken  horn,"  said  an  exas- 
perated farmer,  "makes  more  trouble  than  all  the  cows  I've  got  put 
together.  I'd  a  gi'n  her  away  if  anybuddy'd  had  'er,  but  they  wouldn't. 
I'd  a  fattened  her  for  beef,  but  'twould  cost  more'n  she's  wuth." 

That  night  the  cow  was  killed  by  a  railroad  train,  and  the  farmer, 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  told  the  railroad  official  who  came  to  pay  for  her, 
that  "if  it  had  been  one  of  his  other  cows  he  wouldn't  care  so  much,  but 
to  lose  that  valuable  animal,  the  only  thoroughbred  he  ever  had  or 
expected  to  have,  was  a  misfortune  almost  beyond  money  remunera- 
tion." 


64  THE   KNAPSACK     1886 


AN  ACTIVE  special,  whose  home  is  on  the  rail  and  homestead  in  "the 
City  of  Oaks,"  having  had  three  days  at  home  without  hearing  of  a  fire 
or  a  non-remitting  agent,  began  to  yearn  for  the  gentle  voice  of  the 
heathen  Chinee  as  he  sings,  "Beefee  takee,  mutton  clop,  ham  and  eggee, 
tea  or  coffee,"  and  for  the  dingy  room,  the  cold,  clammy  sheets,  and 
the  delicate  perfume  of  the  bedbug  poison.  He  found  fault  with  the 
dog,  kicked  the  cat,  and  was  showing  his  nervousness  generally,  when 
he  was  gently  chided  by  his  better  and  more  sensible  half,  thus : 

"My  dear,  take  your  valise  and  walk  around  the  block,  and  you 
will  be  in  a  better  humor." 


ONE  of  the  few  men  outside  of  the  profession  whom  I  have  heard 
speak  in  glowing  terms  of  adjusters,  is  a  resident  of  Yolo  county,  who 
once  had  an  experience  something  like  the  following : 

He  was  a  claimant  under  a  policy  which  covered  on  hay,  grain,  har- 
ness, and  the  barn  containing  the  same,  a  separate  amount  on  each.  In 
making  proofs  he  was  free  from  nervousness  and  apprehension,  an- 
swered all  questions  readily,  and  gave  detailed  items.  Between  the 
commencement  and  the  signing  of  proofs  of  loss,  he  ordered  two  bottles 
of  Extra  Dry,  and  was  about  to  insist  on  a  third,  when  the  adjuster 
claimed  his  attention  by  the  simple  statement  that  the  proofs  were  a  sul- 
phurous lie  from  beginning  to  end.  Continuing,  he  said:  "You  are 
certainly  entitled  to  the  prize  for  ingenious  and  lofty  lying ;  your  state- 
ments put  Ananias  to  blush,  while  Sapphira  trembles  for  her  long-sus- 
tained reputation.  Compared  with  you,  Beelzebub  is  a  modest  exponent 
of  truth !  The  hay  you  so  carefully  described  existed  only  in  your 
imagination,  while  the  wheat  is  a  fiction  of  the  brain ;  the  amount  in  bulk 
would  fill  the  barn  from  foundation  to  the  peak  of  the  roof ;  as  for  the 
harness,  there  is  not  even  a  buckle  to  be  panned  out  of  the  ruins ;  while 
the  barn  itself,  from  what  I  have  been  able  to  learn,  was  worth  $438  at 
time  of  fire,  instead  of  $1,200,  as  insured  by  the  policy.  I  respect  talent 
when  I  meet  it,  and  your  talent  for  falsifying  is  of  the  highest  order.  In 
return  for  your  policy  of  $2,500,  I  will  give  you  a  check  for  $438,  less  my 
expenses." 

During  this  statement  of  facts,  the  Yolo  man  was  apparently  an 
earnest  and  admiring  listener. 

"Can  I  cash  your  check  right  away ? "  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply. 

"All  right,"  said  he  ;  "  hand  it  over.  And  now,  gentlemen,  suppose 
we  have  that  bottle  of  arnica." 


THE    KNAPSACK     1886  85 


THE  assured  was  an  undertaker,  the  renewal  was  being  pressed 
warmly  by  competing  agents ;  finally,  with  a  funereal  twinkle  in  his  left 
eye.  he  offered  the  risk  to  whoever  would  "take  the  premium  in  trade." 

This  same  chap,  complaining  of  a  rival  undertaker,  accused  him  of 
cutting  rates,  so  to  speak,  and  influencing  by  unprofessional  means  the 
patronage  of  the  town.  "Why,"  said  he,  " the  unrepentant  disciple  of 
Jimmy  McGinn,  in  order  to  steal  my  trade,  throws  in  three  hand  grenades 
with  every  coffin." 


AT  a  recent  loss,  wher^  the  adjusters'  clause  was  in,  the  assured 
seemed  most  anxious  to  secure  the  comfort  of  the  boys.  This  was  in  the 
early  stages  of  the  proceedings.  Before  the  week  closed,  however,  he 
had  become  indifferent,  I  may  say  antagonistic.  At  the  close  he  paid  the 
adjusters'  bill  of  expense,  at  the  same  time  saying : 

"I  see  you  have  forgotten  nothing  which  you  have  used  on  this  trip, 
including  the  cigars  and  wine  which  I  presented  to  you,  and  which  you 
have  charged  to  me  in  your  account." 

Tableau ! 


A  SAN  FRANCISCO  special,  examining  his  risks  in  a  Montana  town, 
had  a  nice  hotel  to  look  through,  and,  as  usual,  was  attacked  by  the 
landlord  owner  with  a  low  rate  (and,  by  the  way,  what  a  hotel  keeper 
don't  know  about  the  hotel  fire  hazard  and  the  exorbitant  rates  charged 
by  insurance  companies,  is  only  equaled  by  what  an  insurance  man  don't 
know  about  hotel  keeping).  But  this  particular  hotel  man  had  purchased 
a  first-class,  red-tainted  fire  extinguisher,  generally  considered  by  the 
insurance  fraternity  as  more  ornamental  than  useful,  expressly  to  get  a 
reduced  rate. 

Mr.  Special  talked  the  other  side,  and  they  parted  with  the  under- 
standing, on  the  part  of  the  hotel  man,  that  he  would  get  a  lower  rate  or 
not  insure,  and  on  the  part  of  the  special  that  if  he  got  a  lower  rate  it 
would  be  in  some  other  company. 

About  three  months  later  the  hotel  burned ;  fire  started  in  the  lamp- 
room  under  the  stairway,  and  the  adjuster  found  everything  burned 
except  the  red  extinguisher.  An  inquiry  as  to  how  it  was  saved  devel- 
oped the  fact  that  the  night  clerk  on  duty  that  night  was  a  new  man,  and 
when  the  fire  started,  seeing  this  "thing  of  beauty  "  behind  the  bar,  took 
it  across  the  street  and  put  it  in  a  fire-proof  building. 

Moral. — Fire  extinguishing  appliances  are  more  useful  as  rate  re- 
ducers than  as  fire  extinguishers. 


86  7 'HE    KNAPSACK     1886 


DIAMOND   CUT   DIAMOND. 

is  my  story,  sir;  a  trifle,  indeed,  I  assure  you.  Much  more 
Jl  perchance  might  be  said,  but  I  hold  him  of  all  men  most 
lightly  who  swerves  from  the  truth  in  his  tale." 

"Adjust  loss  J.  L.,  on  Canyon  City  Road,  — miles  from  The  Dalles — 
see  Dallas  agent,"  read  a  telegram  which  I  received  at  Portland,  Oregon, 
on  the  3d  day  of  January,  18 — . 

The  prospect  for  a  pleasant  trip  was  anything  but  promising.  The 
weather  was  unusually  severe,  and  the  route  I  would  have  to  travel  was 
through  an  almost  uninhabited  country.  Consoling  myself  with  the 
reflection  that  adjusters  can't  always  have  soft  trips,  I  started  for  The 
Dalles. 

Arriving  there,  I  called  on  the  agent  of  the  company  having  the  loss 
and  obtained  a  copy  of  the  policy  and  such  information  as  he  had  in 
regard  to  the  assured  and  his  loss.  The  policy  read  as  follows :  '  '$5,000 
on  his  stock  and  general  merchandise,  including  jewelry,  while  contained, 
etc.,  situate  —  miles  from  Dalles,  Oregon,  two  miles  west  of  Canyon 
City  Stage  Road." 

The  information  that  I  received  from  the  agent  was  that  J.  L.  had 
formerly  been  a  jeweler  in  the  town  of  X,  Oregon,  but  had  gone  out  of 
business  some  months  prior  to  the  fire,  and  purchased  a  stock  of  mer- 
chandise for  trade  in  the  mountains.  Being  well  known  as  an  industrious, 
temperate,  honest,  though  eccentric  man,  the  agent  had  not  hesitated  in 
giving  him  all  the  insurance  he  wanted.  He  presumed  that  the  jewelry 
mentioned  in  the  policy  was  a  portion  of  the  stock  that  he  had  retained 
from  his  jewelry  stock  when  he  sold  out. 

The  morning  was  bitter  cold  when  I  started,  but  the  sleighing  was 
excellent,  and,  warmly  wrapped  in  blankets  and  furs,  I  enjoyed  the  ride 
over  the  smoothly  beaten  road.  Just  before  sunset  the  driver  pulled  up 
his  team  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  canyon  through  which  flowed  a  large 
creek,  and  remarked,  "There  comes  your  man." 

Looking  up  the  ravine,  I  saw  a  man  rapidly  approaching,  and  was 
soon  introduced  to  Mr.  L.  He  was  a  powerfully  built  German  of  about 
forty  years  of  age,  but  notwithstanding  his  apparently  vigorous  frame,  he 
had  not  the  appearance  of  one  who  lived  in  the  mountains,  his  face  being 
almost  lividly  white,  and  his  eyes  had  a  glittering,  uncertain,  peculiar 
expression,  suggestive  of  intense  nervous  excitement. 

He  greeted  me  pleasantly,  and  apologizing  in  good  English  for  the 
necessity  which  would  compel  me  to  walk  the  remainder  of  the  distance, 
about  two  miles,  we  started  over  a  rough  trail,  deep  in  almost  untrodden 
snow.  He  was  a  pleasant  conversationalist,  and  though  the  road  was 


THE    KNAPSACK     1886  87 


heavy,  I  was  surprised  at  the  apparent  shortness  of  the  trip,  when  we  ar- 
rived at  his  cabin. 

It  was  a  rude  log  affair,  whose  interior  had,  however,  a  cosy  appear- 
ance, when,  with  lamp  lighted  and  a  generous  fire  blazing  in  the  ample 
fire  place,  we  sat  down  to  a  supper  of  venison  steak  and  bacon.  All  of 
his  papers  were  saved,  having  been  kept  in  his  cabin,  which  was  situated 
on  a  creek  about  one  hundred  feet  from  the  store  building  which  was 
burned.  On  examining  his  books  and  papers,  I  ascertained  that  he  had 
not  sold  a  dollar's  worth  of  goods,  anjd  that  his  entire  purchases  amounted 
to  less  than  one  thousand  dollars.  On  questioning  him,  I  found  that  he 
had  sold  no  goods  because  he  had  only  had  the  goods  there  a  short 
time,  and  that  a  deep  snow  had  fallen,  cutting  off  communication  with 
the  world  generally,  and  his  expected  customers  in  particular. 

It  had  struck  me  when  I  first  arrived  that  it  was  a  queer  place  to  start 
a  store,  for  it  was  surrounded  on  all  sides  for  many  miles  by  a  mountain- 
ous wilderness.  Satisfying  myself  that  he  had  produced  all  his  bills  of 
purchases,  I  remarked  to  him : 

"You  have  lost  only  about  $1,000.  You  never  had  more  than  $1,000 
worth  of  goods  in  your  store,  and  yet  you  have  five  thousand  dollars 
insurance  on  your  stock,  which  to  say  the  least  appears  strange." 

"You  have  forgotten  the  jewelry,"  he  said,  interrupting  me,  "the 
diamonds  worth  ten  thousand  dollars,"  he  added. 

There  were  four  diamonds,  uncut  but  mounted,  he  stated,  but  for  a 
long  time  I  was  unable  to  get  him  to  tell  me  where  he  obtained  them ;  but 
finally,  after  placing  me  under  the  most  solemn  oath  not  to  reveal  his 
secret,  he  made  a  statement  which,  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember,  was  as 
follows : 

I  was  born  in  Amsterdam,  and  learned  the  trade  of  diamond  cutter 
and  setter.  I  read  much  about  diamonds,  and  in  a  work  I  came  across, 
found  the  information  that  in  America  were  places  where  persons  seek- 
ing might  find  diamond  mines.  I  was  ambitious  to  become  rich,  and  for 
several  years  pinched  and  starved  myself  to  save  money  to  take  me  to 
America  to  prosecute  a  search  for  diamonds.  I  felt  sure  of  finding  them, 
and  built  many  castles  in  the  air,  based  on  their  discovery. 

A  relative  opportunely  dying,  leaving  me  several  thousand  dollars,  I 
started  for  America.  Traveling  and  prospecting  for  several  years,  I  gave 
up  hope  and  settled  down  in  the  town  of  X  in  Oregon  and  opened  a  jew- 
elry store.  I  did  not  entirely  abandon  my  original  idea  of  searching  for 
diamonds,  and  spent  a  portion  of  each  year  in  the  mountains  ostensibly 
prospecting  for  gold. 

One,  day,  only  a  few  weeks  ago,  I  came  to  this  place,  and  searching 
in  the  creek,  to  my  great  joy  I  found  four  diamonds.  I  made  no  further 


88  THE   KNAPSACK     1886 


search,  but  immediately  went  home,  sold  my  business,  and  purchased  a 
stock  of  goods,  principally  provisions,  telling  the  merchants  I  was  going 
to  the  mountains  to  prospect  for  gold,  and  would  take  a  stock  of  mer- 
chandise to  sell  to  Indians  to  pay  expenses. 

Meeting  an  insurance  agent,  who  had  learned  of  my  intention,  he 
asked  me  to  let  him  write  a  policy.  I  told  him  to  give  me  a  five  thousand 
dollar  policy  on  merchandise  and  jewelry.  I  had  set  the  stones  as  rings, 
roughly,  but  sufficient  as  I  thought  to  make  them  come  under  the  head  of 
"jewelry." 

By  the  time  my  store  building  and  cabin  were  completed,  the  snow 
had  fallen  heavily,  and  I  had  not  searched  further  for  diamonds,  but  was 
waiting  patiently  for  a  "Chinook"  wind  to  come  to  clear  the  snow,  so 
that  I  might  work. 

Before  the  completion  of  his  story,  he  had  become  frightfully  excited, 
and  the  terrible  conviction  forced  itself  upon  me  that  I  was  dealing  with  a 
madman.  It  seemed  as  if  my  heart  had  ceased  to  beat,  and  I  trembled 
violently  in  every  fibre  of  my  body.  Alone  with  a  madman,  who  at  any 
time  might  become  a  maniac.  No  chance  for  help.  The  thought  was  ap- 
palling. 

With  a  great  effort  I  managed  to  regain  partial  composure,  and 
racked  my  brain  for  some  scheme  to  escape  from  him.  I  finally  decided 
on  my  course.  I  conversed  pleasantly  with  him,  talked  diamonds,  talked 
partnership,  to  which  he  seemed  favorably  inclined,  and  after  awhile  he 
lost  his  excited  manner,  and  was  again  the  affable,  agreeable  host. 

I  told  him  just  before  retiring  for  the  night  that  it  was  unusual  to 
allow  anything  on  such  slender  proofs,  but  that  his  reputation  among  the 
business  men  of  The  Dalles  was  so  good  that  I  would  allow  him  a  total 
loss,  and  make  out  the  necessary  papers  in  the  morning. 

The  cabin  had  but  one  room,  and  the  only  sleeping  accommodation 
was  a  rough  bunk.  My  host  told  me  that  I  could  occupy  this  bed  and  he 
would  sleep  in  his  large  easy  chair.  I  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep.  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  escape  as  soon  as  he  was  asleep  and  take  my 
chances  of  finding  my  way  to  some  house  before  he  could  overtake  me. 
I  was  unarmed,  and  I  knew  that  he  had  a  revolver. 

I  waited  anxiously,  counting  the  minutes,  which  seemed  to  my  im- 
patience, hours,  before  I  dared  make  a  move.  He  was  apparently  asleep, 
and  after  cautiously  dressing,  with  shoes  in  my  hand,  I  made  my  way 
stealthily  towards  the  door.  I  was  in  the  act  of  lifting  the  latch,  when 
my  ear,  painfully  acute  to  every  sound,  caught  the  sound  of  a  movement 
behind  me,  and  looking  around,  found  my  host  wide  awake,  sitting  in  a 
lounging  position  with  a  cocked  revolver  pointed  at  me.  "That  is  your 


THE   KNAPSACK     1886  89 


little  game,"  he  remarked  ;  "you  thought  to  escape  without  paying  me," 
he  added. 

He  then  told  me  it  was  useless  for  me  to  try  to  escape  him,  that  he 
would  kill  me  if  I  did,  and  then  commanded  me  to  make  the  necessary 
papers  and  draft  for  five  thousand  dollars.  I  was  forced  to  do  as  he  re- 
quired, but  signed  the  draft  "A  Boarder,  adjuster."  The  driver  had 
said  when  he  introduced  me,  "A  boarder  for  you^  Mr.  L,"  without  men- 
tioning my  name,  and  he  evidently  thought  that  was  my  name,  for  he  had 
addressed  me  as  "Mr.  Boarder"  during  the  entire  evening. 

I  told  him  he  would  have  to  get  the  endorsement  of  the  draft  by  The 
Dalles  agent  before  he  could  cash  it.  He  had  told  me  that  he  would  go 
to  The  Dalles  on  the  stage  the  next  day,  and  would  securely  fasten  me  in 
the  house  until  his  return.  On  inquiring  when  he  would  return,  he  re- 
plied, "in  about  three  days,  if  I  don't  forget  it."  I  felt  sure  he  would  not 
return,  and  my  only  hope  was  that  the  signature  to  the  draft  and  my  non- 
appearance  might  result  in  inquiry. 

After  taking  a  receipt  from  him,  I  went  to  bed,  but  there  was  no  sleep 
for  me.  I  schemed  and  plotted  until  morning  to  devise  some  plan  to  out- 
wit a  crazy  man. 

After  breakfast  I  asked  him  if  I  could  try  my  luck  in  his  mines.  He 
consented,  but  told  me  that  with  snow  and  frozen  ground  to  contend 
with,  I  would  not  be  able  to  find  anything.  With  pick  and  shovel  I 
worked  with  all  the  strength  and  energy  I  possessed.  He  had  described 
minutely  the  stones  he  had  lost,  and  I  had  a  desperate  hope  of  cheating 
him  with  other  similar  ones.  It  was  almost  a  hopeless  task,  but  it  was  a 
question  of  life  and  death. 

After  several  hours  of  incessant  toil,  I  discovered  four  stones  which  I 
thought  might  answer  my  purpose.  Just  before  noon,  I  returned  to  the 
cabin,  and  informed  Mr.  L.,  in  answer  to  his  inquiry,  that  my  search  for 
diamonds  had  been  fruitless.  I  then  asked  him  if  he  had  searched  the 
ruins  for  the  diamonds,  to  which  he  replied  that  he  had  not.  I  then  re- 
marked, "if  the  diamonds  are  genuine,  fire  will  not  injure  them,  and  we 
ought  to  be  able  to  find  them,  and  if  we  find  them,  he  could  not  of  course 
expect  the  company  to  pay  for  them."  He  assented  to  all  this,  and  in- 
formed me  that  the  diamonds  had  been  put  in  a  giant  powder  can,  and 
were  on  a  shelf  in  the  northwest  comer  of  the  store. 

I  told  him  I  would  search  while  he  was  getting  dinner.  I  found  many 
cans,  and  selecting  one  which  had  been  broken  by  a  falling  timber, 
placed  the  stones  I  had  obtained  in  it,  and  then  covered  it  with  ashes.  I 
went  to  the  cabin  and  informed  him  that  I  had  not  found  the  can.  After 
dinner  I  proposed  that  he  should  go  with  me  and  continue  the  search. 
He  agreed  to  this,  and  showed  me  where  the  can  was  at  the  time  of  the 


90  THE   KNAPSACK     1886 


fire.  I  had  hit  the  place  exactly,  and  after  a  pretended  search  of  a  few 
minutes,  pulled  the  can  from  its  concealment  and  handed  it  to  him. 

This  was  the  trying  moment,  and  I  felt  as  if  a  terrible  weight  had 
been  suddenly  removed,  when,  taking  out  the  stones,  he  exclaimed  in  an 
excited  tone,  "they  are  here — they  are  all  right.  It  only  required  this 
test  to  prove  that  the  stones  are  genuine,  and  I  suppose  you  are  convinced 
that  they  are  real  diamonds." 

I  was  only  too  happy  to  be  convinced,  and  to  agree  to  pay  for  the 
gold  in  which  they  were  set,  which  had  undoubtedly  melted  and  dis- 
appeared. He  surrended  the  original  papers  I  had  made,  and  I  made  out 
new  ones,  with  which  he  was  perfectly  satisfied.  I  was  not,  however, 
happy,  until  I  was  safely  on  the  stage. 

When  I  arrived  at  The  Dalles,  I  placed  him  in  charge  of  the  sheriff 
and  he  is  now  in  the  asylum  at  Salem.  When  we  searched  him  for  the 
stones,  they  could  not  be  found.  If  you  doubt  my  story,  go  to  the  insane 
asylum  at  Salem  and  ask  for  Mr.  L.  He  will  tell  you  that  an  adjuster,  to 
cheat  him  out  of  his  insurance  money  and  steal  his  diamonds,  had  him 
locked  up  in  the  asylum  as  a  crazy  man. 


A  SAMPLE  JUDICIAL   DECISION. 

A  farmer,  from  loss  to  be  secured, 

For  many  years  his  dwelling  insured, 

But  at  last  one  day  when  his  luck  had  turned, 

His  house  and  all  his  buildings  burned. 

The  adjuster  no  chance  for  salvage  could  find, 

So  he  filled  out  his  proofs  to  have  them  signed, 

But  the  farmer  read  them  and  shook  his  head, 

"You  will  pay  for  the  house,  I  see,"  he  said, 

"  But  where  in  the  world  will  I  get  any  pay 

For  my  barn  and  sheds,  my  tools  and  hay?" 

The  adjuster  tried,  but  all  in  vain, 

To  make  the  matter  very  plain, 

But  it  only  seemed  that  the  more  he  tried 

The  less  was  the  farmer  satisfied. 

At  last  the  farmer  a  lawyer  employed, 

Thus  made  it  impossible  suit  to  avoid. 

So  the  case  was  tried  and  the  judge's  decision 

Was  given  as  follows  with  great  precision : 

' '  It  really  seems  to  this  court  very  funny 

That,  having  for  years  use  of  this  man's  money, 


THE   KNAPSACK     1886  9i 


The  company  now  to  pay  should  refuse, 

And  this  court  such  action  will  never  excuse. 

They  say  that  the  policy  the  barn  did  not  mention, 

But  the  plaintiff  claims  that  it  was  his  intention 

To  insure  all  he  had,  and  it  is  very  clear 

That  the  word  dwelling,  as  it  is  used  here,       £ 

Every  barn,  every  pigsty  and  shed  does  include. 

This  court  at  least  will  decide  that  it  should. 

This  large  British  policy  I  hold  in  my  hand 

In  size  ought  to  cover  any  barn  in  the  land. 

It  surely  holds  good  in  law  all  the  world  over, 

A  building  of  any  kind  its  contents  must  cover, 

So  the  court  here  decides  that  defendant  must  pay 

For  all  that  the  plaintiff  lost  that  day, 

For  all  that  he  meant  to  insure,  but  forgot 

To  mention  when  he  the  policy  got. 

And  I  really  think  that  the  company  ought 

For  even  allowing  this  suit  to  be  brought, 

And  this  matter  the  mind  of  the  court  to  trouble, 

For  contempt  of  court  to  be  made  to  pay  double." 


ONE  OF   MANY. 

I  SEND  a  recollection  of  a  trip.     Distance  lends  enchantment.    Time 
has  repaired  the  damage. 

It  was  a  call  to  a  remote  settlement  to  adjust  a  loss.  First  came  an 
ocean  voyage.  Then  it  was  I  won  my  sea-legs,  for  the  sickness  of  the 
time  was  such,  I  threw  up  all  hope  of  seeing  home  again,  folded  my 
wasted  hands  over  my  hollow  chest,  willing,  even  anxious,  to  join  the 
"great  majority."  I  have  never  pretended  to  own  a  liver  since. 

Reaching  port,  my  road  lay  through  a  forest  of  redwood — a  "short 
cut"  of  sixty  miles,  by  saddle.  Now,  I  am  an  admirer  of  horseback 
riding — in  others,  and  up  to  the  time  of  which  I  speak,  had  gained  some 
knowledge  of  it  by  means  of  books  and  conversation.  Sixty  miles 
seemed  a  big  distance,  but  could  anything  be  worse  than  that  sea  trip  ?  I 
tackled  it,  taking  for  guide  and  companion  our  local  agent  the  faithful 
Peter. 

The  scenery  was  magnificent,  the  air  bracing.  The  Anna  Maria  river 
danced  and  sparkled  at  our  feet ;  I  took  notice  of  this  early  in  the  ride.  I 
was  also  conscious  of  sitting  my  steed  remarkably  well,  contemplating 


92  THE   KN/1PSACK     1886 


with  much  pleasure  future  exercise  of  the  kind  in  the  park  and  else- 
where. 

Soon  we  came  to  a  precipitous  place,  which  Peter  was  pleased  to  call 
a  "little  sideling."  Down  we  pitched,  leading  the  animals.  Remount- 
ing, I  was  pained  to  find  the  seat  much  harder  than  before.  Still,  as  we 
picked  our  way  through  the  woods,  chatting  gaily,  the  scent  of  balsam 
and  the  sight  of  moss  and  fern  distracted  attention  for  awhile.  We 
lunched  at  a  farmhouse,  having  made  good  progress.  All  that  was 
amiable  of  my  disposition,  I  left  at  that  farmhouse.  No  freak  of  imagina- 
tion, no  charm  of  nature,  could  henceforth  disguise  from  me  how  hurt 
and  bruised  that  miserable  saddle  had  rendered  me.  The  horse  became 
a  stumbling,  torturing  brute.  The  Anna  Maria  river  sprang  up  unbear- 
ably in  all  directions,  having  as  many  forks  as  one  would  need  at  an 
annual  banquet. 

Peter,  too,  was  exasperating,  he  rode  so  fast  and  so  uncomplainingly. 
Why !  he  would  drop  the  reins  and  clap  his  hands  to  urge  the  speed, 
singing  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  in  other  diabolical  ways  show  his 
enjoyment  of  the  time.  Eventually  I  learned  to  know  the  danger  of  the 
four  sharp  jolts  when  we  came  down  to  a  walk,  and  the  painful  bumps 
when  we  start  up.  I  avoid  a  trot,  find  a  lope  preferable,  change  position 
often,  now  leaning  forward,  now  backward,  now  sideways,  I  cling  to  the 
horn  of  the  saddle — there  are  pains  where  were  never  pains  before  ;  each 
leg  seems  to  weigh  a  ton.  I  think  of  all  the  expletives  which  a  varied 
experience  has  rendered  familiar  to  my  ear ;  I  am  saturated  with  mental 
profanity ;  I  hate  myself ;  I  hate  Peter ;  I  hate  the  world ;  I  am  tortured 
and  groan  aloud,  my  sand  has  run  out,  I  give  up  and  cry  for  quarter ; 
from  that  time  we  walk  the  horses. 

The  sun  goes  down,  we  move  silently  on,  moonlight  casts  weird 
shadows,  no  sign  of  human  habitation ;  up  and  up,  down  and  down,  we 
go ;  new  sensations  come,  hunger,  thirst  and  cold ;  we  cannot  see  the 
trail ;  we  are  lost !  It  is  nine  o'clock ;  we  reach  a  clear  spot ;  water  reflects 
the  moonlight ;  it  is  the  refreshing  Anna  Maria.  I  tumble  to  the  ground  ; 
the  faithful  Peter  builds  a  fire  and  mounts  guard;  I  shiver  myself  to 
sleep  and  troubled  dreams.  At  daylight  we  grope  about  to  find  an  out- 
let. There  within  one  hundred  yards,  with  blue  smoke  curling  from  the 
chimney,  stands  a  house,  the  house  of  a  rancher,  an  old  friend  of  Peter's. 
We  share  his  breakfast,  and  meditate  on  the  irony  of  fate. 

By  noon,  still  walking,  we  are  at  our  journey's  end.  The  details  of 
the  adjustment  are  conducted  standing.  My  desk  is  a  mantelpiece. 
When  I  am  told  my  horse  has  the  "pink-eye,"  I  rejoice  aloud ;  it  is  the 
hand  of  Providence.  I  take  the  long  way  back  in  a  wagon ;  wagons  are 
good  enough  for  me  to  this  day. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1886 


"A  GOOD  AGENT." 

Tf  HAVE  been  running  a  merchandise  store  in  this  country  town  for 
some  years  with  success  and  comfort ;  have  made  a  little  money, 
and  have  an  interest  in  a  number  of  small  ranches  whose  owners 
have  been  dealing  with  me.  Not  long  since  the  special  agent  of  your 
company  came  along  and  persuaded  me,  much  against  my  will,  to  accept 
an  agency  of  the  company.  I  must  say  this  view  of  the  subject  was  an 
attractive  one.  I  having  a  commission  on  the  premiums,  and  nothing  to 
do  with  the  losses — that  feature  captured  me.  He  said  he  would  send  a 
few  blanks  when  he  got  back ;  but  my  God  !  I  had  no  idea  I  would  get 
such  a  consignment;  blank  applications,  blank  endorsements,  blank 
monthly  statements,  blank  expiration  notices,  and  blank  policies.  I 
haven't  tackled  the  job  of  filling  any  out  yet. 

I  got  a  letter  from  you  as  general  agent,  confirming  my  appointment, 
and  you  express  a  desire  to  hear  from  me  freely  in  case  anything  should 
come  up  in  the  course  of  the  business  to  puzzle  me.  Now,  the  first  thing 
that  puzzles  me  is  how  to  make  a  rate  on  the  first  application  I  got — the 
Eureka  Hotel.  That  infernal  little  red  book  called  the  Rate  Book,  I 
thought  the  special  had  made  quite  clear,  but  now  I  don't  believe  he 
understands  it  himself — I  don't.  I  never  had  much  to  do  with  mathe- 
matics except  calculating  interest,  adding  up  an  account  and  guessing  at 
the  weight  of  hogs.  This  little  innocent  book  is  worse  than  an  algebra. 

The  first  thing  I  tackled  naturally  was  the  rule  for  determining  the 
rate  of  premium;  my  customer  (do  you  call  him  a  customer  or  a  client?) 
was  waiting  while  I  read  the  rule  before  making  out  his  bill.  I  had  to 
tell  him  to  come  back  in  half  an  hour.  Just  as  he  gpt  out  the  door  I  saw 
the  explanation  about  star  hazards  and  called  him  back,  saying  here 
was  an  explanation,  and  I  would  tell  him  in  a  minute;  but  when  I  read 
the  explanation  I  told  him  to  come  back  in  two  hours  and  a  half ;  that 
"explanation"  stumped  me.  The  rule  would  be  bad  enough  without  all 
the  stars  and  daggers,  but  they  would  puzzle  anybody.  I  turned  to 
" Hotel"  on  the  list,  and  it  there  says,  see  Rules  6  and  18,  also  see  Fresco 
work.  What  the  devil  fresco  work  has  to  do  with  a  country  hotel,  I  don't 
see — we  are  used  to  "fly  fresco,"  but  nothing  else.  I  looked  at  Rule  6, 
which  goes  on  about  buildings  occupied  for  a  common  purpose.  The 
"Eureka"  is  a  perfectly  respectable  house,  so  don't  fit  that  rule — we've 
none  of  that  kind  of  houses  in  our  town  anyhow.  We  go  to  the  city  for 
that  kind  of  thing.  Rule  18  fits  the  "  Eureka,"  for  transient  guests  come 
there,  and  there  is  a  bar  for  regular  visitors.  A  part  of  the  "Eureka" 
is  an  old  cloth-lined  structure,  and  part  is  brick,  frame  and  plaster ;  there 
is  a  grocery  store  at  the  corner  room  on  the  ground  floor ;  that  is  in  the 


94  THE   KNAPSACK     1886 


frame  part  of  the  building  and  comes  under  Rule  7,  about  the  compart- 
ments. 

There  is  a  wooden  awning  at  this  corner,  a  coal  yard  next  door  where 
there  is  a  steam  engine  for  chopping  wood,  and  a  livery  stable  next  to 
that.  When  I  came  to  figure  upon  the  brick,  iron,  cloth-lined  grocery 
with  coal  oil,  awning,  coal  yard  with  steam  engine,  and  consider  all  the 
daggers,  stars,  explanations,  etc.,  I  thought  I  would  write  to  you,  for  I 
haven't  cheek  enough  yet,  being  only  in  the  insurance  business  a  few 
days,  to  tell  him  how  much  he  would  have  to  pay;  besides,  that  alpha- 
betical table  of  hazards,  and  classification  of  buildings  rather  bothers 
me;  when  you  find  it  is  a  "B"  class,  something  in  the  rule  puts  it  in 
"C"  class,  and  when  you  fix  it  in  that,  then  you  find  another  rule  that 
shoves  it  in  "D"  class.  I  haven't  been  able  to  keep  it  in  one  class  long 
enough  to  fix  the  rate. 

There  is  a  woolen  mill  here,  and  I  tackled  the  proprietor.  His  stock 
is  mainly  cloth  and  blankets,  but  I  find  a  blanket  policy  is  prohibited,  so 
I  couldn't  do  anything  with  him.  How  about  that?  he  said  he  had  no 
trouble  before,  and  I  said  it  was  probably  due  to  the  compact,  and  he 
thought  the  compact  was  a  fraud.  Is  it? 

I  can't  get  that  "exposure  "  business  through  my  wool.  Most  of  our 
buildings  are  on  the  main  street,  and  the  outbuildings  are  on  a  corre- 
sponding row  on  the  rear  of  the  lot.  Do  these  outbuildings  constitute  an 
exposure?  They  all  have  separate  entrances  on  the  ground  floor.  I 
always  come  back  to  that  explanation  pasted  between  pages  4  and  5. 
Does  not  the  man  who  drew  that  up  also  draw  a  big  salary?  I'd  like  to 
fix  the  basis  rate  with  the  stars  and  daggers  to  the  man  who  got  up  that 
red  book.  I  had  no  idea  insurance  business  required  so  much  figuring. 
I  thought  all  we  had  to  do  was  to  accept  the  premium  and  dispute  the 
losses,  which  is  easy  enough. 

Now,  if  you  can  give  me  any  lucid  explanation  of  how  to  definitely 
figure  a  rate  on  a  building  without  47  exceptions  and  provisos,  I  will  stick 
to  the  agency. 


FARNFIELD'S   SONG. 

Be-hold  therpop-u-lar  un-der-wri-ter, 

A  per-son-age  of  mar-tial  rank  and  title, 
A  dig-ni-fied  and  po-tent  ad-jus-ter, 
Whose  func-tions  are  par-tic-u-lar-ly  vi-tal. 
'Tis  Charlie  Kinne — Charlie  Kinne ; 
To  insurance  halls  we  welcome  him. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1886  95 

He  has  strug-gled  with  non-con-cur-ren-cy, 
And  for  his  rule  has  fought  with  might  and  main  ; 

Sue-cess  now  crowns  his  id-io-syn-cra-sy ; 
We  ne'er  shall  hear  of  non-con-cur-ren-cy  again. 
'Tis  Charlie  Kinne,  etc. 

So  hail  our  pop-u-lar  sol-dier  chair-man, 
He's  a  man  in  the  pro-fes-sion  stands  very  high  ; 

Twelve  months  he's  pre-si-ded  o'er  us  no-bly, 
But  this  night  he's  del-e-ga-ted  to  die. 
'Tis  Charlie  Kinne,  etc. 


96  THE   KNAPSACK     1887 


EDITORIAL,  1887.        GEO.  F.  GRANT. 


GENTLEMEN  of  the   Association,    and  friends  of  Underwriting,    I 
greet  you. 

In  the  budget  called  the  Knapsack,  for  1887,  we  find  all  of  the 
pathetic,  humorous,  corrective  and  personal,  which  active  minds  have 
been  willing  to  contribute  during  hours  stolen  from  business.  I  use  this 
phrase  as  a  figure  of  speech. 

Stealing  is  a  serious  matter ;  it  not  only  involves  a  perpetual  endeavor 
to  conceal  the  act,  but  it  lays  upon  the  conscience  in  unexpected  and  in- 
convenient times  and  places.  Why  should  one  steal  that  which  is  his 
own  ?— a  species  of  kleptomania  which  shifts  an  article  from  one  pocket  to 
another,  the  pocket  being  on  the  person  of  the  thief. 

The  hours  of  business  cannot  be  stolen.  There  is  a  popular  impres- 
sion to  the  contrary,  but  it  is  incorrect.  An  aimless,  heedless  clock- 
watcher can  "soldier"  through  days  of  time  in  an  office.  A  no-account 
special  can  read  novels  in  a  shady  corner  of  a  summer  hotel.  An  adjuster 
can  demonstrate  the  accuracy  of  calculation  on  a  billiard-cloth.  This  is 
not  theft— it  is  fraud.  If  you  think  by  the  rules  of  Knapsack  philosophy 
I  have  demonstrated  these  acts  to  be  theft,  I  will,  in  accordance  with 
Knapsack  ethics,  yield  the  point  for  the  sake  of  harmony. 

An  earnest,  interested  worker  will  put  in  all  his  working  hours  for 
the  benefit  of  the  office  for  which  he  toils.  If  he  is  not  a  strong,  inde- 
pendent, tactful  person,  he  is  out  of  place  with  insurance.  Being  a  fit 
person,  he  should  be  encouraged  to  imbue  his  work  with  his  individuality. 
This  individuality  is  strengthened  and  improved  by  writing  Knapsack 
articles.  See? 

When  I  say  this  business  of  ours  is  carried  on  at  too  high  a  pressure, 
I  speak  a  truth  well  known  to  all  of  you.  From  a  business  conducted  in 
such  a  way  that  an  applicant  submitted  himself  and  his  risk  to  close 
scrutiny  at  the  office  during  office  hours,  we  have  reached  a  point  where 
solicitors  in  every  grade  of  station  and  education,  or  the  lack  of  both, 
pursue  all  classes  of  people  for  all  classes  of  risks  by  day  and  night. 

Your  company  and  mine  were  the  last  to  wheel  into  line  and  follow 
sorrowfully  at  the  tail  of  the  procession ;  but  we  have  been  poked  at  and 
prodded  into  until  at  last  we  have  determined  to  lead  the  stampede ;  the 
whole  mental  effort  of  our  wonderful  and  incomprehensible  being  is 


THE    KNAPSACK      1887  97 


strained  in  an  endeavor  to  "get  there."  It  matters  not  how  long  or  how 
short  a  time  this  is  to  continue.  It  is  all  wrong. 

As  I  look  upon  the  faces  of  this  calm  and  dignified  body  of  men 
before  me,  I  wonder  why  our  business  should  not  be  one  of  elegant  de- 
liberation. The  feverish  day  of  stock  gambling  has  gone  by,  we  have  no 
Wall  street  clamor  in  our  midst ;  we  are  removed  from  the  world's  strife 
just  as  far  as  the  western  boundary  of  a  continent  will  permit.  We  take 
no  note  of  the  orb  of  day  except  to  watch  his  lazy  decline  into  old  ocean 
as  he  winks  good  night  after  a  long  day's  methodical  work ;  our  climate 
is  one  of  open  doors  and  windows,  our  breezes  fan  odors  of  palm  and 
spices  across  sleepy  plains,  yet  here  we  plunge  and  rear  and  kick  our- 
selves into  a  state  of  delirium  in  the  vain  hope  of  outdoing  our  neighbor, 
in  the  vain  hope  of  attaining  the  unattainable. 

Underwriters  of  the  Pacific,  the  Knapsack  says  to  you  take  more  time, 
relax,  give  up  stimulants,  drop  brain  and  nerve  food,  let  gentle. exercise 
and  moderate  action  govern  mind  and  body,  that  we  may  turn  into  legiti- 
mate channels  the  business  of  fire  insurance.  Then  will  you  have  time  to 
prepare  your  brainy  articles  for  this  annual  intellectual  feast,  without  fear 
of  the  accusation  of  having  stolen  it  from  your  business?  "May  the  Lord 
love  you  and  not  call  for  you  too  soon." 


IT  is  matter  for  comment  that  so  many  of  our  Pacific  Coast  insur- 
ance people  have  been  fighting  soldiers.  To  one  who  never  faced  fire, 
to  whom  war  is  a  page  of  history,  the  offering  of  life  for  a  principle  seems 
little  short  of  martyrdom.  It  is  heroism  of  the  loftiest  type. 

When  I  see  these  veteran  underwriters  marching  to  the  tune  of  old- 
time  battle  songs,  or  strewing  with  sweet  spring  blossoms  the  graves  of 
fallen  comrades,  I  feel  that  our  business  is  honored  by  them,  that  such 
material  is  in  accord  with  our  best  endeavors  to  strengthen  and  purify 
the  profession  of  ligitimate  underwriting. 

I  thought  of  this  while  in  Seattle  at  the  time  of  the  labor  riot.  That 
same  courage  which  prompted  the  clerk  in  1861,  impelled  the  citizen  in 
1886,  to  take  up  arms  to  defend  the  peace  of  his  home  and  fireside  ;  among 
them  my  old  friend  and  former  local  agent.  True,  he  had  never  faced 
fire  on  the  gory  field  of  battle,  but  he  had  smelled  powder  at  a  target 
shoot.  One  cold  and  stormy  night  he  patrolled  a  beat  laid  out  for  him. 
At  midnight  he  saluted  the  officer  in  charge  of  munitions  and  requested 
a  few  rounds  of  cartridges,  on  the  plea  of  possible  failure  to  kill  his  man 
at  the  first  fire. 


98  THE    KNAPSACK 


"More  ammunition!"  said  the  officer;  "why,  you  have  forty  rounds 
on  your  person  this  minute  in  that  box." 

"Great  Caesar  !  are  those  cartridges?  I  thought  it  was  my  lunch," 
and  the  courage  which  prompted  him  to  face  death  oozed  away  at  the 
thought  of  hunger. 


A  CHARACTER. 

FRHAPS  there  is  nothing  more  distasteful  to  a  boy  or  young  man 
than  a  person  who  is  known  as  a  "character."  In  the  days  when 
the  influence  of  home,  the  study  room,  the  play  ground  and  the 
chapel  is  on  the  growing  youth,  such  people  as  have  peculiarities,  strong- 
minded  notions,  or  eccentric  fads,  are  regarded  with  disfavor  bordering 
on  hatred. 

In  after  life,  with  broadened  business  experience,  that  experience 
which  seems  to  teach  that  the  truthful  lie,  the  honest  steal,  and  that  virtue 
has  no  reward  whatever  of  a  tangible  nature,  men  regard  the  cranks  of 
other  men  with  amusement,  not  to  say  interest,  and  often  study  them  for 
literary  use,  as  lay  figures  in  novels  and  magazine  sketches. 

In  my  friend  Overton  is  a  deep  vein  of  fantastic  sobriety ;  I  have  taken 
no  end  of  comfort  in  watching  his  intelligent  inconsistencies.  It  was  he 
who  studied  the  effect  of  various  kinds  of  medicine  on  himself,  and  be- 
cause he  was  feeling  unnaturally  disturbed  from  his  last  allopathic  venture, 
tried  something  else  homeopathically  to  set  him  right. 

He  was  a  special  agent,  and  one  day  came  to  the  committee  room 
with  a  box  of  pills  which  he  had  found  in  a  drawer  of  his  bureau ;  no  one 
knew  what  kind  of  pill,  so  he  proposed  as  there  was  just  enough  of  them 
to  go  around,  we  all  take  one  and  watch  the  effect.  He  was  eating 
lemons  by  the  dozen  just  then,  but  he  stopped  and  tried  eau  sucre  on 
reading  the  benefits  of  the  drink  in  a  French  paper.  One  day  he  splashed 
a  suspicion  of  ammonia  in  his  eye,  and  went  about  telling  how  slowly  but 
surely  it  was  destroying  his  sight ;  he  negotiated  for  a  dog  to  lead  him  by 
a  string  when  darkness  set  in. 

When  the  history  of  the  Garden  of  Eden  was  under  discussion,  it  was 
he  who  said,  "show  me  a  sworn  statement  from  the  snake  and  I  will 
adjust  the  case." 

In  appearance  he  was  not  unlike  a  clergyman,  and  in  the  rapid  one- 
day  stands,  a  special  agent  makes  in  towns,  secured  much  business  for  his 
company  and  retained  the  good  will  of  every  one  who  met  him  once,  for 
like  dead  sea  fruit,  the  second  taste  was  away  off.  He  bought  a  scalper's 


THE    KNAPSACK     1887  99 

ticket  and  paid  his  fare  over  again  with  bland  politeness  to  the  conductor 
who  said,  "your  ah — 1  of  a  cattle  drover." 

Once  I  met  him  at  a  famous  hot  spring  resort ;  he  was  really  feeling 
seedy  and  worn  out.  The  other  boys — there  were  four  of  us  in  all, 
advised  him  to  lay  off  a  week  and  take  a  course  of  baths  under  the  direction 
of  the  resident  physician.  He  consented.  We  went  to  the  office  wj^ere  a 
printed  notice  gave  terms  for  bathers,  fifty  cents  in  advance  per  bath;  no 
discount. 

He  objected,  "Suppose  I  don't  like  it;  suppose  I  only  take  half  a 
bath,  my  money  is  gone."  The  clerk  put  the  other  view,  "  Suppose  you 
die  in  the  bath,  we  haven't  got  anything."  "Oh,  Lord!  do  they  die 
often?"  he  asked. 

He  objected  to  the  custom  of  depositing  valuables  at  the  office,  but 
did  so  finally,  preferring  to  be  robbed  by  the  boss  rather  than  in  the 
dressing  room. 

We  took  him  to  the  "tepidarium,"  clothed  in  a  turban  and  a  waist- 
band, not  unlike  a  Patagonian  warrior  in  appearance,  provided  the 
Patagonian  had  not  eaten  missionaries  for  some  months;  in  fact  a  skele- 
tonized Patagonian.  Here  he  buttonholed  the  attendant  (that  is,  if  it  is 
proper  to  say  you  can  buttonhole  a  person  dressed  like  Adam  before  the 
fall). 

"  Look  here !  you  are  the  man  in  charge  here.  You  have  been  here  a 
long  time,  may  be  for  years ;  well,  you  look  like  an  intelligent  man,  a 
very  intelligent  man ;  I  will  venture  to  say  you  know  as  much  about  the 
effect  of  these  baths  as  any  doctor ;  of  course  you  do,  in  fact  more  than 
the  doctor,  for  you  haven't  got  any  fool  reputation  to  sustain  and  no 
fees  to  charge ;  that's  it,  fees ;  bleed  you  to  death  these  doctors,  I  know 
them.  You  just  prescribe  for  me  and  I'll  make  it  all  right.  You  see  at 
a  glance  what's  the  matter  with  me ;  liver  all  gone,  nerves  used  up,  no 
appetite,  no  strength,  see?  Now  what  kind  of  a  bath  ought  I  to  take 
first?  Mean  to  try  everyone  of  them  before  I  get  through,  but  the  main 
thing  is  to  start  right,  see?" 

The  attendant  saw  the  solemn  winks  at  the  eyes  of  the  party,  and 
dropped  to  the  level  of  the  situation;  he  prescribed  hot  air  first.  He 
told  Overton  to  step  into  a  dark  box  of  a  closet  where  the  thermometer 
marked  180  degrees,  and  wait  there  till  he  called  him.  There  was  a  place 
to  sit  dimly  outlined  and  no  handle  to  the  door.  When  Overton  stepped 
in,  the  attendant  laid  his  hand  against  the  door  and  closed  it;  Overton 
had  not  been  in  three  seconds  before  he  called  out : 

"Hi!  hello!  I  want  to  say  something !  Say!  hello!  hi  there,  say! 
there's  something  wrong  here.  Say  !  open  the  door!  let  me  out !  Help ! 
murder!  I  can't  stand  it !  Oh,  for  the  Lord's  sake  open  the  door!" 


/oo  THE   KNAPSACK     1887 

Suddenly  he  jumped  against  it  and  sprawled  at  the  feet  of  his  friends, 
who  were  convulsed  with  laughter.  After  one  glance  around  he  grinned 
and  said,  "I  thought  the  darned  old  door  was  locked."  Upon  his  form 
hung  beads  of  perspiration  and  a  deep  blush  of  pink  marked  the  brief 
period  of  rest  he  had  taken  inside. 

"Mister,"  said  he  to  the  attendant,  "feel  of  the  muscles  of  my  arm, 
if  they  are  done,  I'm  cooked  all  through." 


A  SHINGLE  mill  was  recently  destroyed  by  fire  near  Detroit,  and  the 
night-watchman  was  burned  to  a  crisp.  The  dangers  that  beset  a  night- 
watchman  when  on  duty  are  not  properly  recognized  by  a  giddy  and 
heedless  world. 


"WELL,"  said  he,  as  he  placed  one  foot  carefully  on  the  other,  both 
being  raised  to  a  convenient  elevation,  "an  honest  man  has  always  been 
my  admiration  and  delight.  You  know  most  of  my  life  has  been  passed 
here  on  the  Coast.  I  have  been  engaged  in  various  kinds  of  insurance, 
but  fire  insurance  is  my  first  love,  although  adjusting  is  more  my  natural 
forte. 

"  I  am  a  born  adjuster,  although  I  am  willing  to  admit  the  study  of 
law  has  made  me  more  proficient  than  I  otherwise  would  have  been.  I 
have  seen  many  queer  characters,  some  of  them  honest — but  not  many. 
I  do  love  an  honest  man !  I  had  a  case  once  where  a  claimant  was  so 
honest  he  quite  won  my  heart,  and  I  have  entertained  a  warm  friendship 
for  him  ever  since. 

"You  know  I  am  a  positive  man,  a  very  positive  man ;  there  are  few 
men  more  positive.  This  has  made  enemies  for  me,  particularly  in  adjust- 
ments. People  treat  me  with  indifference  at  times  principally  from  profes- 
sional jealously.  Being  a  lawyer,  I  have  that  much  advantage,  which 
seems  to  cause  a  petty  feeling  in  the  breasts  of  my  rivals.  But  this  claim- 
ant I  speak  of  was  a  rare  one.  He  had  a  fire,  and  claimed  loss  on  some 
goods  left  by  customers  for  repair,  on  the  ground  that  he  was  responsible, 
and  would  have  to  make  the  loss  good.  It  was  a  small  affair,  and  I 
compromised  the  case.  Well,  sir,  some  time  after  that,  in  fact,  after  I  had 
retired  from  the  fire  insurance  business — for  you  will  remember,  my  com- 
pany withdrew  from  the  Coast  and  reinsured — some  time  after  that  this 
man  came  in,  and  said  he :  'I  have  settled  with  all  my  customers,  and  I 
find  I  have  $30  over;  here  it  is;  I  wish  to  return  it  to  you.'  I  was  so 
taken  back  you  could  have  knocked  me  down  with  a  feather.  What 


THE    KNAPSACK     1887  101 


did  I  do?  Why,  took  it,  of  course.  Well,  yes;  I  kept  it — you  see,  the 
company  had  retired  from  the  Coast.  He  was  the  most  honest  man  I 
ever  met;  and  in  these  days  an  honest  man  is  a  novelty — you  hear 
me?" 


THE  UNDERWRITER   OF  THE   FUTURE. 

£6  (g^UFFICIENT  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof,"  says  the  philoso- 
^5  pher.  "Act  well  your  little  part;  there  all  the  honor  lies," 
sings  the  poet.  At  times  a  strange  desire  to  pierce  the  veil  of 
the  future  comes  to  me.  I  would  look  beyond  the  working  plans  of  to- 
day and  know  something  of  the  possibilities  at  least  of  underwriting. 
Keeping  up  with  the  procession,  as  it  is  called,  seems  to  be  best  accom- 
plished by  adopting  every  loose,  tenantless  vagary  of  every  theorist,  no 
matter  how  illogical.  At  the  annual  meeting  of  all  associations  the  goal 
seems  to  be  personal  aggrandizement.  The  papers  produced  are  for  the 
most  part  a  vehicle  used  to  create  or  sustain  a  reputation ;  the  writer 
arrays  his  facts  and  figures  in  a  manner  calculated  to  call  attention  not  to 
the  wants  or  needed  reforms  in  the  business,  but  to  himself.  Theories 
are  thrown  out  as  carelessly  as  pitching  broadcast  a  handful  of  beans, 
with  no  more  interest  in  the  root  they  take.  He  who  writes  in  favor  of  a 
scheme  to-day  may  oppose  it  to-morrow,  and  receive  applause  for  each 
effort. 

When  I  apply  to  my  nearest  friends  for  an  opinion  on  the  future  of 
our  business,  they  good-naturedly  laugh  me  out  of  countenance.  Those 
who  are  recognized  as  our  great  minds  receive  my  question  with  a  cold 
stare  and  intimate  that  now  is  the  very  fruit  time  and  harvest  of  insurance 
progress,  while  others  who  are  working  on  new  and  apparently  reckless 
lines  are  quite  happy  in  the  advantage  gained,  and  "think"  less  seldom 
than  when  they  were  not  in  the  lead. 

Compared  with  the  safe  rules  governing  life  insurance  fire  insurance 
is  floundering  in  a  sea  of  doubt.  The  cheerful  and  well  fed  air  with 
which  our  leading  managers  guide  their  companies  to  disaster  through 
paths  of  unquestioned  ruin  is  perplexing.  Fortunately  the  Pacific  Coast 
is  still  too  far  from  the  American  center  to  be  entirely  stripped  bare  of 
its  adequate  rates,  its  protecting  safeguards.  The  march  of  time  is  doing 
us  a  mischief  all  the  same ;  with  it  comes  changed  opinions.  Some  of 
our  best  field  men  are  adopting  plans  of  action  which  would  have  been 
odious  in  their  own  eyes  a  few  years  back  and,  worst  of  all,  these  plans 
are  not  boldly  proclaimed  as  of  old,  but  are  know  only  by  the  fruit  they 
bear. 


/02  THE   KNAPSACK     1887 


Is  not  reputation  dear  now  as  then,  or  is  ours  in  truth  a  business  to 
demoralize,  to  harden  the  finer  sensibilities  and  make  dull  the  moral 
perception?  In  other  words,  is  now  the  future  of  ten  years  ago,  and,  if 
so,  is  it  all  correct?  If  agreed,  let  us  say  "check,"  and  pass  on  to  the 
next  item. 

Thoughts  like  these  have  made  me  somewhat  persistent  in  my  en- 
deavor to  gain  information,  so  that  I  am  in  a  manner  avoided  by  my 
former  associates.  This  disturbs  me.  One  night  after  dinner  I  sat  think- 
ing of  it  when  a  card  was  handed  in,  followed  by  the  person  whose  name 
it  bore. 

" Pardon  the  apparent  intrusion,"  said  he;  "my  excuse  shall  be  a 
slight  service  which  it  is  in  my  power  to  render  you.  If  you  really  wish 
to  know  something  of  the  underwriter  of  the  future,  I  can  show  him 
without  inconvenience  to  yourself,  nor  will  it  take  up  much  of  your  time. 
There  is  but  one  condition,  simply  that  you  will  abandon  yourself  to  the 
thought  that  a  century  has  passed  away  since  you  last  took  an  active  part 
in  fire  insurance  matters." 

I  assented,  and  we  passed  out  into  the  night.  To  my  surprise  I  ex- 
perienced no  new  sensation.  The  streets  were  familiar  and  we  paused  at 
the  building  where  my  own  office  is  located.  Here  a  determined  looking 
but  silent  man  in  uniform  kept  guard. 

"Conduct  this  person  to  the  center,"  said  my  companion.  I  followed 
along  the  familiar  hall,  saw  him  open  my  own  office  door,  heard  myself 
announced  and  stepped  into  what  at  first  seemed  a  spacious  auditorium, 
but  which  by  degrees  I  observed  to  be  an  office  of  about  sixteen  feet 
square,  partitioned  off  with  huge  plates  of  glass  from  other  rooms  or 
offices,  so  that  on  the  right  and  left  in  front  of  the  room  in  which  I  stood 
could  be  plainly  seen  all  objects  and  tenants  of  other  rooms  or  compart- 
ments on  the  same  floor. 

There  was  not  time  to  fully  realize  this  peculiar  and  unusual  arrange- 
ment before  I  was  greeted  by  the  only  occupant  of  the  "center,"  as  it 
was  called.  In  saying  the  only  occupant,  I  do  not  take  into  account  a 
silent  man  in  uniform,  for  I  soon  learned  to  know  that  such  people  were 
stationed  everywhere  about  the  place  like  articles  of  indispensable 
furniture.  The  voice  which  greeted  me  was  low  and  sweet,  so  gentle 
and  winning  indeed  that  I  immediately  contrasted  it  with  the  rude,  not  to 
say  surly  salutations  of  my  own  time. 

"May  I  ask  whom  I  have  the  honor  of  addressing?"  said  I.  This 
seemed  a  trifle  absurd,  considering  the  formality  of  my  introduction. 

"It  is  with  pleasure,"  said  he,  "also  with  pride  that  I  announce  my- 
self Lieutenant  Director  of  the  Center  of  the  Pacific  Coast  Department." 
(Here  he  mentioned  the  name  of  my  own  company.) 


THE    KNAPSACK      1887 


While  he  was  speaking  I  notice  the  peculiarity  of  his  dress,  which  at 
first  I  mistook  for  a  bathing  suit.  It  was  of  dark  silk,  knitted,  fitting  the 
form  closely — a  costume,  it  was  explained,  in  vogue  for  the  use  of  bank 
officials,  county  officers  and  those  in  positions  of  trust  or  who  handled 
the  funds  of  others.  There  were  no  pockets  in  the  clothes.  It  was  a 
most  becoming  dress,  and  my  entertainer  seem  so  much  at  ease  that  I  am 
sure  if  he  had  worn  the  clumsy  apparel  of  my  own  time  it  would  have 
made  him  appear  a  guy. 

"I  knew  of  your  coming,"  said  he  "from  the  general  director,  he 
who  visited  your  home  and  invited  you  here.  The  general  director  is 
the  only  one  of  us  who  goes  outside  the  building,  you  know ;  the  rest  of 
us  take  our  meals,  our  exercise  and  our  sleep  inside.  We  often  have  a 
hop  on  the  roof  when  a  few  ladies  are  included,  but  while  we  are  em- 
ployed by  the  company  we  do  not  talk  to  strange  men.  These  silent 
things  in  uniforms  are  called  '  Pinkertons.'  They  are  to  us  such  informa- 
tion as  the  calendar  used  to  be  to  insurance  offices — albeit  they  are  fewer 
and  less  expensive." 

"Is  that  because  their  days  are  numbered?"  I  asked.  He  only 
frowned,  and  continued: 

"I  am  allowed  to  talk  to  such  people  as  are  introduced  by  the 
general  director ;  but  I  take  little  pleasure  in  such  talks,  since  my  conver- 
sational limit  is  cut  out  for  me  in  advance,  as  this  Pinkerton  in  the  corner 
well  knows.  To  really  enjoy  a  conversation,  one  must  be  at  liberty  to 
tell  secrets,  lie  about  his  friends,  and  abuse  the  other  company,  as  you 
are  no  doubt  aware." 

"We  are  all  employed  here  for  a  term  of  seven  years.  During  that 
time  we  surrender  ourselves  to  the  company  by  contract,  after  which  we 
can  re-enlist  or  be  pensioned  off,  each  according  to  his  length  of  servi- 
tude." "  Much  more  just  than  working  all  your  vigorous  life  for  a  com- 
pany, and  then  be  turned  out  in  the  streets  in  old  age  to  make  room  for  a 
better  because  a  younger  man,"  I  could  not  help  saying. 

"Yes,  no  doubt,"  replied  the  lieutenant;  "still  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  the  strain  on  one  in  my  position  leaves  him  little  to  hope  for  mentally 
when  his  seven  years  are  up.  I  have  five  years  more  to  serve,  and  I  feel 
the  strain  already.  I  commenced  as  a  boy  under  Class  I,  in  this  very 
office,  and  worked  my  way  around  the  house  to  the  center." 

At  this  moment  our  attention  was  attracted  by  two  dark  shadows 
which  fell  upon  the  white  top  of  the  table  before  which  the  lieutenant 
sat. 

"Two  risks  being  taken,"  he  explained,  "if  you  look  into  the  right 
hand  apartment  you  will  see  two  people  making  application.  That  object 
into  which  they  are  talking  is  a  "voice  wave."  It  catches  and  records 


104  THE    KNAPSACK     1887 


the  words,  also  reproduces  them  in  print,  making  five  impressions. 
These  are  held  as  evidence.  This  voice  wave  can  be  made  to  repeat 
aloud  the  words  spoken  into  it,  and  is  conclusive  in  a  court  of  law.  Of 
course  a  man  may  say  he  didn't  know  what  he  was  talking  about; 
lawyers  and  judges  know  only  too  well  what  a  valid  excuse  that  is. 

"The  shadows  on  my  desk  are  from  the  'reflex'  hanging  yonder  on 
the  farther  partition.  This  same  machine  also  gathers  light.  Thus  as 
daylight  fades  away  the  office  is  kept  at  an  even  state  of  luminosity.  We 
take  every  risk  that  is  offered.  Nothing  is  excluded.  The  rates  are 
found  in  the  directory  of  rates,  such  as  that  hanging  beside  the  Pinkerton 
yonder.  A  directory  is  issued  annually,  the  old  one  being  legal  until  the 
new  is  distributed.  The  time  has  gone  by  for  any  one  to  say  he  knows 
the  correct  rate  for  any  particular  hazard  from  experience,  or  time  tables, 
or  classification.  That  instrument  which  looks  like  a  piano,  situated  in 
the  next  case  on  the  right,  is  the  most  accurate  rate  maker  yet  found. 
You  throw  in  all  the  statistics  and  strike  the  corresponding  chords  and 
keys,  and  you  have  a  rate  which  is  positively  correct.  We  use  it  in  cases 
where  the  directory  fails  to  contain  a  hazard.  This  one  is  called  a  petty 
organ.  The  grand  organ  at  Chicago  now  makes  rates  for  the  whole 
world.  You  knew  that  Chicago  was  the  greatest  city  in  America,  didn't 
you?"  he  asked.  I  blushingly  said  I  had  heard  Chicago  people  say  so. 

''This  system  is  the  outgrowth  of  the  compact  series.  The  grand 
organ  is  a  more  endurable  machine  than  the  compact  manager." 

In  the  compartment  directly  in  front  of  us,  which  was  larger  than  any 
other,  were  twelve  or  fourteen  men  who  seemed  to  be  constantly  engaged 
in  receiving  and  transmitting  messages  through  machines  which  spoke 
the  words  and  recorded  them  in  print  at  the  same  time.  Everything  that 
went  on  was  audible  in  the  "center,"  but  so  soft  and  musical  in  tone  as 
not  to  interrupt  or  interfere  with  conversation. 

"There  are  no  female  clerks,  you  see,"  said  my  host.  "Women  are 
now  engaged  as  sea  captains,  railroad  conductors,  and  in  such  like  busi- 
ness. That  is  the  finance  department,"  he  continued.  "We  are  receiving 
advices  from  our  investments  all  day  long.  All  of  our  premium  receipts 
are  invested  in  lottery  coupons." 

At  this  I  started. 

"Ah,  I  see,"  he  said,  "you  are  not  informed.  Well,  to  commence: 
The  National  Lottery  at  Washington  is  drawn  every  ten  days  and  is  the 
largest  investment,  conducted  by  the  President  and  Cabinet  officers. 
This  puts  capital  and  labor  on  the  same  plane.  Then  there  are  State 
lotteries,  county  lotteries  and  town  lotteries,  all  conducted  by  laws  enacted 
in  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives.  The  prizes  are  drawn 
promptly  every  thirty  days.  Perhaps  you  now  see  why  clerks  are  not 


THE    KNAPSACK      1887  105 


allowed  to  leave  the  building  for  seven  years.  Companies  put  no  more 
faith  in  their  employes  than  they  did  in  your  time." 

I  sighed. 

"Ah,  well,"  he  said,  "honesty  is  the  best  policy.  It  is  a  long  way 
better  than  an  insurance  policy." 

"We  have  had  a  good  year,"  he  continued.  "Our  premium  receipts 
for  San  Francisco  alone  are  two  million  dollars  in  round  numbers,  our 
losses  a  million  and  a  half,  and  our  coupons  realized  four  millions.  This 
is  unusual.  Last  year  we  were  not  so  fortunate  ;  our  out-go  was  209  per 
cent." 

"Millions!"  I  cried.  "Premium  receipts  of  millions!  How  can  it  be 
done!" 

"Ah,  yes,  I  forgot,"  he  said,  "You  do  not  know.  There  are  but 
fourteen  insurance  companies  now  doing  business  in  the  United  States ; 
the  others  went  to  the  wall  under  the  old  hazardous  system.  That  is  why 
we  have  no  solicitors  or  brokers.  The  assured  comes  to  the  office  and 
records  his  voice  and  receives  in  return  a  printed  evidence.  His  insur- 
ance is  in  force  until  ordered  cancelled,  and  is  paid  for  by  the  week  in 
advance." 

"And  the  loss  claims?"  I  gasped. 

"Oh,  yes,  about  the  claims.  Well,  each  claim  goes  into  court  and  is 
examined  by  a  jury,  or,  in  case  of  appeal,  by  the  judge  of  a  higher  court. 
The  office  deals  only  with  finances.  See  ?" 

"Yes,"  I  admitted,  uneasily;  "I  think  I  do,  but  I  don't  quite  under- 
stand. Have  you  no  adjusters?" 

"Adjusters  !"  he  said  scornfully.  "No  ;  I  thank  fortune  we  have  no 
such  butchers  in  these  days.  I  have  read  of  them  in  books,  and  I  am 
vexed  whenever  I  think  of  their  abominable  practices.  Such  of  them  as 
were  half-way  honest  were  wholly  incompetent,  and  such  as  were  compe- 
tent played  the  mischief  with  the  companies'  money  and  reputation.  No, 
we  have  no  adjusters.  When  a  claim  is  presented  it  comes  at  first  hand 
through  the  lawyer  of  the  assured  in  the  manner  of  a  suit  for  the  full 
amount  of  policy.  We  pay  the  amount  into  court  at  once  and  await  the 
process  of  law." 

"Dear  me,"  I  said,  "I  don't  grasp  this  point." 

"Don't  mention  it,"  he  replied,  encouragingly  ;  "I  am  not  surprised. 
How  should  you?" 

Just  then  we  became  aware  of  what  seemed  to  be  a  faint  round  of  ap- 
plause, and  upon  looking  into  the  left-hand  compartment  saw  a  number 
of  elderly  men  with  happy,  smiling  faces,  listening  to  an  address  or 
lecture. 


106  THE    KNAPSACK     1887 


"These, "said  the  lieutenant,  "are  retired  officers,  who  have  served 
their  term  of  seven  years  in  the  chair  I  now  occupy.  One  of  them  has 
been  a  general  director;  all  are  known  as  extraordinary  men.  I  will 
not  conceal  from  you  (lowering  his  voice)  that  in  my  opinion  some  of 
them  are  crazy  on  the  subject  of  insurance — but  for  that  matter  men  have 
been  so  incur  business,  time  out  of  mind.  These  gentlemen  are  living  on 
a  pension  at  the  expense  of  the  company.  Most  of  them  are  allowed  to 
come  and  go  at  will,  always  of  course,  attended  by  a  Pinkerton,  so  that 
they  may  not  disclose  the  inner  workings  of  the  coupon  investments," 
this  in  reply  to  an  inquiring  glance. 

"These  men,"  said  my  informer,  with  as  much  of  enthusiasm  as  he  had 
yet  allowed  himself  to  show,  "are  engaged  in  the  inductive  principle  of 
evolution ;  the  goal  of  yesterday  is  the  starting  point  of  to-day.  They 
have  outlived  such  questions  as  local  agents,  fire  department  and  water 
supply,  tariff  rates,  legislation  and  taxation,  forms  of  policies,  etc.,  etc. 
Saw-tooth  diagrams  and  cube  illustrations  belong  to  the  far  distant  past ; 
the  common  mechanic  who  dealt  with  such  material  is  dead  and  gone  to 
his  account  years  and  years  ago  ;  sweet  oblivion  prevents  such  from 
knowing  how  futile  and  childish  their  efforts  have  been.  The  paper  of 
to-day,  which  caused  the  applause  you  heard,  is  on  'the  survival  of  the 
ligitimate,'  and  is  an  able  argument  in  favor  of  issuing  no  evidence  of 
insurance  other  than  a  loss  receipt !" 

"But,"  I  said,  "This  is  gambling,  this  is  putting  the  money  of  the 
people  on  the  hazard  of  a  die ;  millions  lost  last  year,  millions  won  this 
year — no  stability,  no  guarantee  of  indemnity.  Why,  sir,  the  whole 
system,  inductive  or  no  inductive,  was  born  in  the  brain  of  a  madman 
and  means  everlasting  ruin." 

"Sir,"  replied  he,  severely,  "do  not  forget  that  you  are  a  privileged 
guest.  You  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  these  stern  rules  of  ligitimate  busi- 
ness emanate  from  brains  of  extraordinary  men,  bent  on  making 
money." 

"As  if,"  I  cried,  "as  if  history  were  not  made  up  of  the  bad  actions 
of  extraordinary  men,  as  if  all  the  most  noted  destroyers  and  deceivers  of 
our  species,  all  the  founders  of  arbitrary  governments  and  false  religions, 
had  not  been  extraordinary  men,  as  if  nine-tenths  of  the  calamities  which 
have  befallen  the  human  race  had  any  other  origin  than  the  union  of 
high  intelligence  with  low  desire." 

"One  moment,  sir,"  said  he,  "is  not  that  a  quotation?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  I  replied,  "it  is  from  Macauley's  Essay  on  Francis 
Bacon." 

"I  thought  so.     I  regret  to  inform  you  that  your  visit  is  at  an  end. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1887  107 

One  of  the  cardinal  principles  of  the  office  is  opposition  to  quotation. 
We  are  original  in  our  methods,  whatever  else  we  may  be." 

"Sir,"  I  replied  with  some  warmth,  "there  is  little  in  what  you  have 
said  to  me  that  has  not  been  taken  from  the  mouths  of  others.  Remem- 
ber that  those  who  live  in  glass  houses — " 

"Stop!"  he  fairly  howled,  "don't  do  that,  don't  finish  that  sentence. 
That  is  the  worst  crime  you  can  commit  in  this  office.  Pinkerton !" 

I  felt  that  I  was  disgraced.  I  saw  the  uniformed  dummy  advancing 
upon  me  when  a  voice  fell  upon  my  ear,  saying : 

"Well,  dear,  if  you  are  ready  we  will  go." 

It  was  the  voice  of  my  wife.  I  had  seen  the  underwriter  of  the  future 
in  as  much  time  as  it  takes  a  woman  to  put  on  "her  things"  and  make 
ready  for  the  theatre. 


I  RAN  into  a  story  which  caused  a  merry  laugh.  Ever  on  the  alert 
for  something  to  please  the  readers  of  the  Knapsack,  I  dressed  this 
story  up  in  a  painfully  alluring  manner,  and  at  a  distance  from  home 
tried  the  effect  of  it  on  a  solemn  companion.  He  said  he  saw  it  in  print  in 
the  Monitor  before  the  war,  or  before  the  Chicago  fire,  or  before  some 
other  remote  event.  It  matters  little  when  he  saw  it ;  the  wretched  fact 
remains  that  Brother  Hine  had  printed  it. 

If  there  is  anything  touching  upon  the  subject  of  the  heavens  above, 
the  earth  beneath,  or  the  waters  under  the  earth,  which  the  Monitor  has 
not  published,  aye  and  "originally"  published.  I  should  very  much 
like  to  know  it. 

It  is  particularly  painful  to  always  hear  that  senseless  remark,  "  I  told 
you  so."  I  wish  the  editor  of  the  Monitor  would  take  a  vacation  ;  go 
off  and  catch  cold  and  be  laid  up  with  something  painless  but  confining, 
while  things  were  going  on  that  others  could  see  and  hear  and  print  which 
would  be  news  to  him. 

In  regard  to  this  story  of  which  I  speak,  he  not  only  had  it  in 
print,  but  he  put  in  all  the  fine  lines  of  the  picture,  had  names  and 
dates  and  locations,  described  the  kind  of  chromo,  gave  the  company 
away,  broke  up  the  business— in  fact  forestalled  me  in  every  particular. 
It  seems  only  fair  to  give  a  faint  outline  of  the  story,  for  we  were  not  all 
born  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  it  is  time  the  tale  was  sent  the  rounds  once 
more.  Here  it  is  : 

Once  on  a  time  a  local  agent  was  appointed  by  letter.  At  the  remote 
distance  where  he  lived  such  small  matters  as  bonds  or  instructions  were 
not  thought  of;  an  exceedingly  liberal  outfit  of  supplies  reached  him, 


io8  THE   KNAPSACK     1887 


and  here  the  business  of  that  agency  rested  for  some  weeks,  when  one 
day  a  letter  was  received,  saying:  "Insurance  business  is  dead  in  this 
place  :  but  I  have  sold  the  picture  cards  you  sent  at  $2  apiece.  Inclosed 
please  find  remittance  less  my  commission.  I  don't  know  if  I  charged 
enough  ;  I  can  sell  a  few  more  at  the  same  price.  Please  be  more 
particular  in  your  instructions  to  agents. 


THE  LOCAL  AGENT. 

THE  local  agent  is  generally  supposed  to  be  a  man — that  is,  most  of 
them  wear  men's  clothes,  but  I  have  seen  lady  local  agents. 
Lady  agents  do  first  rate  until  they  get  married,  then  they  don't 
care  for  anything,  such  as  business. 

Local  agents  have  strong  convictions.  Some  of  them  have  a  strong 
conviction  that  they  can't  get  a  risk — and  they  never  try.  Others  have  a 
conviction  that  they  know  more  about  it  than  the  man  at  the  office,  and 
you  can't  knock  it  out  of  them  until  you  pay  twenty  per  cent.;  that  seems 
to  be  an  argument  they  can't  get  around.  Anybody  is  willing  to  follow 
twenty  per  cent,  instructions. 

I  know  a  local  agent  who  made  more  than  the  company.  He  loaned 
the  company  money  at  twelve  per  cent,  per  annum,  and  bought  a  lot  of 
their  stock  at  ten  cents  on  the  dollar.  Then  he  got  himself  elected  presi- 
dent, and  pretty  soon  he  pulled  the  company  out,  paid  his  money  back  to 
himself,  sold  his  stock  for  $1.35,  and  returned  to  his  local  agency.  After 
that  the  company  busted.  I  don't  see  how  he  did  it. 

Local  agents  are  like  cats.  You  stroke  them  the  right  way,  and  they 
will  stay  quiet  and  be  sociable,  but  if  you  rub  the  fur  against  the  grain 
they  show  claws  and  howl,  and  get  mad  enough  to  bite  the  buttons  off 
your  clothes. 

It's  funny  how  some  local  agents  manage.  I  know  one  who  fussed 
around  and  got  a  fine  office,  and  the  companies  paid  the  rent  and  helped 
furnish  it,  and  painted  big  expensive  signs  all  over  the  widows,  and  all 
such  things,  and  there  was  a  modest  little  man  next  door,  who  never  got 
an  extra  for  anything,  and  his  commission  even  was  never  raised  although 
he  lived  in  an  excepted  city,  and  he  worked  right  along  and  sent  in  ten 
times  as  many  premiums  as  the  first  man,  and  one  day,  when  he  called 
attention  to  the  difference,  his  insurance  office  people  told  him  to  mind 
his  own  business.  "There  want  any  kick  coming  to  him,"  and  talk  like 
that.  The  harder  you  work  and  the  more  you  do,  and  the  better  you  do 
it,  the  less  thanks  you  get.  It  is  just  like  the  woman  who  poisoned  her 


THE    KNAPSACK      1887  109 

husband.  No  sooner  had  the  jury  perjured  themselves,  than  she  received 
thirteen  offers  of  marriage,  one  of  them  from  a  clergyman. 

Sometimes  I  think  a  good  square  man  has  no  business  with  insur- 
ance— but  that  is  when  I  am  bilious.  Half  the  agents  I  meet  seem  to 
think  the  business  is  a  grand  swindle.  They  act  as  if  they  were  not  getting 
their  share  of  the  loot,  and  if  you  don't  give  more  they  will  squeal  and 
give  the  whole  snap  away,  as  the  slangy  people  say.  The  other  half  work 
on  the  principle  that  it  is  the  only  ligitimate  calling  in  the  world,  and 
they  abuse  the  people  who  don't  insure  with  them,  and  give  them  short 
answers,  and  take  their  money  as  if  they  were  doing  them  a  favor ;  and 
when  a  man  has  a  loss  they  want  the  Grand  Jury  to  indite  him  right 
away,  and  start  stories  about  how  mysterious  the  fire  is,  and  tell  the 
adjuster  not  to  pay  a  cent,  and  so  forth  and  so  forth.  Then,  in  a  month 
or  two,  they  write  to  the  office  and  ask  how  you  can  expect  a  man  to  get 
any  business  if  the  company  don't  pay  its  losses.  I  sometimes  get  real 
cross  with  local  agents ;  the  only  consolation  I  have  is  the  thought  that 
there  are  exceptions  to  the  general  run  of  them. 

I  used  to  be  a  local  agent  myself,  and  I  know  how  it  is.  I  never  had 
any  trouble,  because  I  worked  for  a  home  company,  and  the  board  of 
directors  could  make  it  all  right ;  but  I  paid  a  loss  in  full  once  before  I 
adjusted  it,  because  I  thought  the  other  locals  were  getting  away  with 
me.  I  never  was  an  adjuster,  anyhow  ;  and  I  think  by  the  time  the  man's 
papers  were  finally  made  out,  the  company  people  thought  they  would 
have  saved  money  if  they  had  sent  a  regular  adjuster.  If  I  had  to  be  a 
plumber  or  a  local  agent,  I  would  be  a  local  agent.  The  season  is 
longer. 


AT  ALTURAS  last  summer  bed  and  board  were  matters  of  importance. 
Beds  were  secured  with  difficulty  at  one  end  of  town,  while  board  of  the 
most  primitive  service  scarcely  filled  the  bill  at  the  other  end  of  town.  In 
the  middle  was  a  waste  of  blackened  ruins  where  the  business  houses 
had  been.  Every  one  was  good  natured  over  the  discomfort,  and  many 
a  cheerful  conversation  lengenthened  out  over  the  simple  fare  at  dinner. 
Judge  White  and  family,  burned  out  of  house  and  home,  shared  the 
''second  table"  with  the  adjusters,  and  his  sweet  little  four  year  old 
daughter  listened  sedately  to  the  oft-discussed  points  of  insurance.  One 
day  as  we  met  on  the  bridge  the  little  one  eyed  me  a  moment,  then 
raised  her  face  and  said,  "  Pa,  is  that  the  man  who  set  the  town  on  fire?" 
Quickly  he  answered,  "  No,  my  pet,  that  is  the  man  who  sets  the  claimant 
on  fire,  and  he  burns  him  up,  too." 


no  THE   KNAPSACK     1887 


CALENDARS. 

THE  Fireman's  Fund  sent  in  what  I  assume  to  be  a  calendar.  It  is  a 
beautiful  picture  representing  a  chaste  young  thing,  dressed  in  her 
best  clothes,  leaning  out  of  a  two-story  window,  and  on  the 
chest  of  a  young  insurance  solicitor.  He  is  imprinting  with  great 
accuracy  of  aim  a  cold  salute  upon  the  point  of  her  chin.  He  poises  him- 
self airily  with  the  slight  assistance  of  one  foot  upon  a  rope  ladder.  He 
appears  to  be  taking  a  risk.  I  commend  this  new  manner  of  soliciting  to 
the  young  of  our  profession. 

Of  all  the  calendars  received  at  this  office  that  one  which  bears  the 
figures  of  three  beautiful  girls  on  its  face  made  the  greatest  sensation. 
Fair  and  elegant  types  of  womanhood  were  they,  gazing  into  the  future 
with  an  inquiring  eye.  But  what  words  are  these  I  see  printed  directly 
under  their  feet? — "  Old  and  tried."  Let  us  hope  it  is  intended  in  some 
way  to  refer  to  the  business  of  the  office. 

The  German- American  sends  in  a  picture  of  a  mother  and  two  infant 
children  gazing  steadfastly  through  an  open  window  in  quite  a  different 
direction  from  the  general  conflagration  in  full  burn  across  the  street.  The 
mother  is  carefully  dressed  ;  the  children  in  night  clothing.  A  clock  on 
the  wall  plainly  indicates  the  time  to  be  5  o'clock.  As  it  is  dark  out  of 
doors,  it  is  presumably  winter.  Query,  is  the  heat  from  the  fire  sufficient 
to  warm  the  children,  or  if  this  is  a  tropical  scene,  as  the  growing  plants 
at  the  open  window  indicate,  in  what  part  of  the  country  is  it  dark  at  5  A. 
M.  or  p.  M.  ? 

Calendars  are  no  good,  anyway;  their  use  as  advertisers  has  gone. 
I  am  pleased  to  think  "their  days  are  numbered."  I  recall  one  issued  by 
a  prominent  home  company,  which,  aside  from  the  lurid  pigments  of  its 
composition,  was  off  color  otherwise.  It  represented  an  attractive  figure 
clad  in  an  elaborate  morning  gown  presiding  over  a  table  containing  two 
bottles  of  fiz  and  a  hot  lunch.  In  her  hand  was  an  invitation  to  stand  in 
and  share  the  refreshments.  The  President  of  the  company,  a  courtly 
gentleman  of  the  old  school,  was,  in  the  language  of  the  street  Arab, 
"too  fly,"  hence  the  whole  edition  was  suppressed. 


A  "  FIRE  insurance "  and  a  "hail  insurance  "  man  met  on  a  train  and 
compared  notes  on  business.  Fire  man  said  business  is  bad — too  many 
fires,  too  many  losses — and  observed  that  the  big  hail  storms  lately  must 
have  caused  heavy  losses  under  hail  policies.  Hail  man  said,  no — no 
losses — had  hail  storms  and  assured  had  losses,  but  the  hail  policies  pro- 
vide that  during  a  storm  or  at  night  time  all  crops  insured  thereunder 


THE    KNAPSACK     1887  in 


must  be  taken  in  and  put  under  cover,  and  a  neglect  to  do  this  voided 
the  policy. 


MORE  CORRESPONDENCE. 

YOU  may  remember  me  as  the  individual  whose  letter  on  the  rate 
book  was  handed  you  by  the  general  agent,  and  which  you  paid 
me  the  compliment  of  printing.  I  can't  say  that  I  fully  understand 
that  book  yet,  but  I  find  that  I'm  not  so  much  worse  off  than  others,  after 
all.  Since  then  I've  taken  more  interest  in  insurance  matters,  and  have 
read  all  I  could  see  on  the  subject  in  the  papers.  I  notice  that  the  news- 
papers seem  to  know  more  about  insurance  than  the  insurance  men  them- 
selves, though  that  seems  strange.  But  what  a  bad  time  we've  had  of 
late.  So  many  big  fires  have  occurred,  and  we're  having  a  session  of  the 
Legislature  to  add  to  the  disasters.  And  now  another  insurance  paper  is 
to  be  started.  When  will  the  luck  change? 

Speaking  of  books  and  papers  and  legislatures,  I  find  I  am  not  alone 
in  my  ignorance  of  what  is  in  books  or  ought  to  be  in  them.  Even 
Webster's  big,  unabridged  dictionary  has  no  such  word  as  "  cinch  "  in  it. 
Now,  we  all  know  what  that  is,  but  Webster  never  belonged  to  the  legis- 
lature, I  guess,  and  never  was  an  insurance  company,  so  he  didn't  put 
the  word  in  his  book.  If  he  had  ever  lived  in  California  he  would  have 
done  so.  Some  of  his  other  definitions  are  bad  also.  For  instance,  he 
defines  Cluniac  as  one  of  the  reformed  Order  of  Benedictine  monks,  so 
called  from  Cluny  in  France.  Now,  Clunie  is  not  in  France,  more's  the 
pity  ;  he's  very  much  here,  and  I'm  afraid  has  come  to  stay.  Cluniacen- 
sion  is  defined  as  relating  to  the  reformed  discipline  prescribed  to  certain 
monks.  That's  not  at  all  the  definition  our  legislative  committee  would 
give.  The  proper  "ascension"  in  that  direction  would  be  too  high  for 
definition  if  they  had  their  way.  Besides,  the  reformed  discipline  pre- 
scribed is  better  adapted  to  ecclesiastical  history  than  to  the  present  com- 
mercial age.  It  is  curious,  though,  now  I  think  of  it,  though  I  couldn't 
find  "  cinch  "  in  Webster  that  I  find  "  clunch  "  just  above  cluniac,  in  the 
same  column,  and  clunch  means  to  bend  the  hand  or  fist.  I  don't  sup- 
pose there's  any  connection,  but  it's  odd. 

I  hear  from  the  insurance  men  that  the  insurance  men  got  away  with 
the  Legislature,  but  I  see  by  the  newspapers  that  the  Legislature  got 
away  with  the  insurance  men.  It  usually  does,  in  one  way  or  another — 
generally  in  one  way.  The  papers  say  that  one  Senator  was  down  on 
the  insurance  delegation  because  they  rode  up  from  the  depot  in  hacks, 
gave  lunches,  wore  kid  gloves,  canes,  clean  shirts  and  plug  hats,  and 


ii2  THE    KNAPSACK     1887 

drank  wine  at  dinner.  He  said  he  couldn't  afford  to  do  this,  especially 
drink  wine  at  dinner.  How  dreadful  !  Probably  he  will  after  adjourn- 
ment. 

I  am  told  that  one  man — a  veteran  lob-legislative  committee  man — 
was  complacently  congratulating  himself  on  how  he  had  outwitted  the 
chairman  in  that  investigation  before  the  committee,  and  while  he  was 
doing  it  another  man  feelingly  confessed  that  he  had  been  sat  on  hard 
when  trying  to  suggest  an  answer  for  the  first  man  to  one  of  the  ques- 
tions, and  he  wanted  to  know  why  the  first  man  didn't  answer  right  up 
sharp  when  the  chairman  asked  a  few  pertinent,  or  rather  impertinent, 
questions  about  the  compact.  Why  did  he  draw  neighborhood  improve- 
ments or  other  things  on  the  dusty  table  with  his  finger  and  speak  so 
slowly  while  the  chairman  was  asking  the  conundrums.  He  wanted  to 
speak  correctly  and  conscientiously,  he  said.  The  second  man  thought 
it  was  a  bad  time  and  place  to  wait  for  a  conscience  to  stretch,  and  that 
any  insurance  man  of  experience  ought  to  have  it  well  stretched  anyhow, 
so  as  to  be  equal  to  the  occasion  any  time.  He,  of  course,  speaks  from 
experience. 

The  President  of  this  Association,  in  his  address  last  year,  put  in  big 
type  his  opinion  that  "agitation  is  the  only  means  of  reform."  That 
sounds  like  Dennis  Kearney  or  Coroner  O'Donnell,  but  if  it  is  true,  then 
the  insurance  companies  will  presently  be  reformed,  for  there  seems  to  be 
"  agitation  "  enough  among  them  just  now. 

The  President  also  says  that  ' '  insurance  is  the  most  trustful  of  any 
class  of  business."  Stockholders  put  up  coin  and  trust  directors, 
directors  trust  officers,  officers  trust  department  managers,  managers 
trust  specials  ( they  can't  help  it,  by  the  way ),  specials  trust  agents, 
agents  trust  the  assured."  That  last  is  the  only  bad  thing  about  the  whole 
trust  business,  but  this  mutual  trust  talked  about  is  not  on  faith  alone. 
If  we  all  trusted  each  other  in  this  golden  age  manner  there  wouldn't  be 
any  necessity  of  any  compact.  You  notice  your  President  didn't  say 
the  "companies  trust  each  other."  He  knew  too  much.  I  might  put 
the  case  somewhat  like  your  president  did. 

Fires  make  business,  business  makes  agents,  agents  make  specials, 
specials  make  managers,  managers  make  companies,  companies  make 
cut  rates  and  cut  rates  make  compacts.  Then,  compacts  stir  up  public, 
public  stirs  up  Clunies,  Clunies  stir  up  legislatures,  legislatures  stir  us  all 
up.  It  isn't,  by  the  way,  the  fires  alone  that  make  all  the  bad  burns  in 
the  business. 

There  is  a  tendency,  I  see,  to  make  us  all  honest  by  law.  If  they 
applied  this  principle  to  all  classes  of  business,  this  would  be  all  right. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1887  n3 


We're  no  worse  than  others.  Why  scarcely  a  paper  is  read  before  this 
society  that  does  not  have  something  to  say  about  the  necessity  of  our 
being  honest  and  upright.  Perhaps  it  is  on  the  principle  that  the  "  lady 
doth  protest  too  much  "  that  they  don't  believe  in  us.  Even  your  Presi- 
dent last  year  gave  us  a  nut  of  thought  in  the  expression,  "  Honesty  is  the 
best  policy,"  but  he  failed  to  say  what  company  it  was  in,  and  until  we 
know  that  we  can't  be  sure. 


MR.   JOHN  SCOTT  WILSON'S  SPEECH. 

MR.  PRESIDENT: — 

THE  occasion  we  celebrate  to-night  is  one  filled  with  special  and 
peculiar  interest.  It  is  that  we  may,  with  song  and  story,  make  a 
circuit  of  the  festive  board,  and  fill  up  the  chasms  of  life  with 
mirth  and  laughter.  To  feel  that  buoyancy  of  spirit  which  drowns  all 
care  and  draws  each  into  closer  relationship  with  his  brother ;  for  our 
lives  to  receive  fresh  impulse  from  the  hopes  which  brighten  and  the 
friendships  which  are  here  formed.  Hither  we  have  come  to  tell  the  old 
stories,  to  sing  the  old  songs,  to  renew  the  old  traditions,  and  to  add 
another  bright  page  to  the  pleasures  of  the  past.  How  peculiar,  then, 
the  delight,  how  generous  the  interest  enkindled  within  us  as  we  gather 
this  evening,  many  hearts  beating  with  one  purpose  and  uplifted  in 
one  devotion.  No  fabled  dragon  in  terrible  aspect,  as  in  the  elder  time, 
watches  at  the  gates  of  this  garden  of  Hesperides,  lest  the  foot  of  the 
profane  should  desecrate  its  fragrant  walks,  or  his  presumptuous  hand 
dare  pluck  the  ripening  fruit.  A  mightier  than  Hercules — the  spirit  of 
genial  fellowship — has  slain  the  dragon,  and  thrown  open  the  portals  of 
its  sacred  recesses;  and  now  the  barbarian,  as  well  as  the  Greek,  may 
enter  and  eat  of  those  fruits  at  will.  All  are  welcome,  for  we  meet  to  the 
feast  of  youth,  of  friendship  and  of  fraternity. 

Man  is,  in  the  nature  of  things,  a  social  being;  he  loves  to  frequent 
the  society  and  enjoy  the  affections  of  those  who  are  like  himself,  there- 
fore we  can  wonder  at  the  entire  neglect  of  the  finer  feelings  of  our 
nature,  the  social  for  instance,  which  mark  the  character  of  multitudes  of 
the  genus  homo,  in  this,  our  day.  Deeply  engrossed  by  their  strife  after 
the  pelf  and  lucre  of  Mammon,  they  serve  him,  therefore,  with  such  per- 
fect, such  unmingled  devotion,  that  no  time  is  left  nor  opportunity  given 
for  converse  with  each  other,  otherwise  than  in  the  crowded  mart  of 
commerce,  the  shop  and  the  stall. 


114  THE   KNAPSACK     1887 


From  early  dawn  until  the  very  going  down  of  the  sun,  and  even 
into  the  still  hours  of  the  night,  every  thought,  word  and  deed  is  devoted 
to  the  worship  of  that  demigod  who  rewards  his  votaries  with  great  stores 
of  gold,  and  at  the  same  time  with  bitterness  and  ashes.  Even  their 
sleep  is  troubled ;  their  dreams  are  not  of  the  bright  realms  of  sylph  and 
fairy,  but  of  those  dark  and  gloomy  caves  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth 
where  hideous  and  gigantic  genii  sleeplessly  watch  over  the  ingot  and 
the  jewel — the  heaped-up  treasure  of  their  sordid  master. 

Upon  the  brows  of  such  sits  wrinkled  care,  while  in  their  hearts  is 
sharp  anxiety,  brooding  over  the  unattained  object  of  their  fierce  desire. 
Their  converse  is  but  of  cent  per  cent,  of  "profit  and  loss,"  and  of 
loaded  argosies.  They  tremble  from  very  fear  as  they  hear  the  fierce 
winter's  wind  howling  around  their  homes,  and  when  they  meet  each 
other  "on  change,"  scarcely  have  the  usual  salutations  of  the  day  curtly 
passed  between  them,  ere  their  troubled  thoughts  find  utterance  in  sol- 
emn talk  upon  the  dreadful  storm  of  yesternight,  and  their  own  rich 
ventures  and  those  of  their  fellows,  for  friends  they  have  none,  though 
they  may  name  them  such.  There  is  no  time  to  enjoy  nature's  beauties ; 
no  leisure  hours  to  spend  with  those  grand  old  masters  of  English  lit- 
erature ;  none  for  social  duties ;  no  time  to  pray. 

' '  How  quickly  nature  falls  into  revolt 
When  gold  becomes  her  object." 

Beecher  in  his  " Life  Thoughts "  says :  "Many  men  are  mere  ware- 
houses full  of  merchandise — the  head — the  heart — are  stuffed  with  goods. 
*  *  *  There  are  apartments  in  their  souls  which  were  once  tenanted 
by  taste  and  love,  by  joy  and  worship,  but  they  are  all  deserted  now,  and 
their  rooms  are  filled  with  earthly  and  material  things."  But  who  is  this 
Diety — Mammon,  that  man  so  worships?  Indeed  its  power  is  great;  it 
transforms  the  beggar  into  the  aristocrat,  clothes  the  bandit  with  respect, 
makes  the  outlaw  a  citizen,  and  bequeaths  to  him  the  name  of  Christian. 
It  is  a  justifier  of  wrongs  and  a  repulsion  to  truth,  an  idol  whose  worship 
is  almost  universal,  the  possession  of  which  is  sought  with  the  utmost 
zeal  to  the  exclusion  of  pursuits  more  worthy.  Fame  and  wealth  are  in- 
deed great  rewards,  but  they  should  not  be  the  entire  aim  and  end  of 
man. 

Alas !  they  oftimes  come  too  late.  Fame  when  the  laurel  wreath 
crowns  a  head  white  with  the  snow  of  age ;  wealth,  when  disease  pre- 
vents the  gratification  of  even  innocent  desires  ;  happiness,  when  death  is 
at  the  threshold,  when  riches  are  the  only  fruits  of  fifty  years  of  toil  and 
labor  to  the  exclusion  of  higher  and  happier  ends.  If  you  succeed  your 
reward  is 


THE   KNAPSACK     1887  7/5 


"  Praise— when  the  ear  has  grown  too  dull  to  hear, 
Gold — when  the  senses  it  should  please  are  dead ; 
Wreaths— when  the  hair  they  cover  has  grown  gray, 
Fame — when  the  heart  it  should  have  thrilled  is  numb. 
And  close  behind  comes  death,  and  ere  we  know 
That  even  these  unavailing  gifts  are  ours, 
He  sends  us  stripped  and  naked  to  the  grave." 

Forbid  that  it  should  be  said  that  there  are  no  brilliant  exceptions — 
those  who  say  to  their  worldly  affairs  "thus  far  and  no  farther,"  who 
cultivate  the  finer  feelings  or  their  nature  and  glean  from  the  rich  fields  of 
literature  precious  products,  and  are  guided  by  the  light  of  moral  prin- 
ciple ;  who  see  in  each  rounded  pebble,  little  leaf  and  tiny  blade  of  grass, 
as  well  as  in  the  jutting  rocks,  the  majestic  tree  and  meadows  carpeted 
with  verdure,  the  hiding  place  of  God's  power.  For  what  were  our  feel- 
ings of  consociality  so  liberally  bestowed  upon  us  by  the  wise  author  of 
our  existence,  if  not  as  pure  sources  of  enjoyment,  if  not  to  adorn  and 
beautify  life. 

Oh !  ye  who  waste  the  best  and  brightest  hours  of  that  life  in  carking 
cares  and  material  pursuits,  little  know  ye  how  you  lose  and  throw  away 
that  time  which  might  be  made  so  fruitful  of  the  truest  and  most  exalted 
happiness.  Eager  for  gain,  looking  forward  to  a  period  which  never 
comes,  ever  anticipating  and  never  realizing,  before  you  are  aware  the 
evil  days  come  when  you  have  no  pleasure  in  them.  First — Go  with  me 
to  the  house  of  a  friend  who  can  sympathize  with  my  taste  and  feelings. 
Second — Go  with  me  into  your  library  where  are  enshrined  the  souls  of 
the  living  dead,  and  let  us  commune  with  them  for  a  moment.  There 
you  have  Milton  to  sing  to  you  of  paradise ;  Shakespeare  to  open  to  you 
the  worlds  of  imagination  and  the  workings  of  the  human  heart ;  Frank- 
lin to  enrich  you  with  his  practical  wisdom,  and  Bacon  to  teach  you  his 
deductive  philosophy.  There  you  meet  the  gentle  loving  Spencer,  char- 
acterized by  Hallam,  as  "the  delight  of  every  accomplished  gentleman, 
the  model  of  every  poet,  the  solace  of  every  scholar." 

There  you  meet  in  true  friendship,  poet,  historian  and  novelist. 
How  could  you  better  pass  your  time?  You  pick  up  the  poets'  pages 
and  there  you  find  brilliancy  of  fancy  to  captivate,  creations  of  genius  to 
surprise,  tenderness  of  conception  to  raise  us  above  every  day  life,  all 
embodied  in  beautiful  and  harmonious  language.  His  is  the  master 
mind  that  sweeps  among  the  trembling  chords  of  our  hidden  and  myste- 
rious nature,  and  wakes  the  dim  melodies  we  dream  we  have  heard  be- 
fore the  present,  in  some  other  world — that  shadowy  memory  of  some 
more  beautiful  existence,  which  dwells  in  every  soul. 


//6  THE   KNAPSACK      1887 

Then  you  commune  with  men  like  Dickens  and  Thackeray,  men  full 
of  human  love  and  hope  and  charity,  whose  works  and  lives  are  but  one 
long  poem,  wherein  all  may  hope  for  comfort  and  sympathy.  Here  is  an 
honest,  and  therefore  beautiful  sentiment  towards  mankind,  in  its  highest 
and  lowest  grades,  a  broad,  universal  and  catholic  faith,  that  includes  in 
its  creed  the  love  of  all,  even  the  saddest  and  most  degraded  of  our 
human  kind.  Theirs  are  the  works  which  bear  the  stamp  of  heaven  on 
the  broad  page,  whereon  they  trace  hopeful  words  to  their  fallen  and 
deserted  brother. 

The  field  of  literature  is  a  province  wherein  have  labored  the  great- 
est and  best  of  earth's  gifted  ones ;  wherein  have  toiled  philosophers  and 
poets  ;  men  of  science  and  earnest  inquiry ;  men  whose  midnight  visions 
have  been  lit  with  a  strange  and  mystic  light ;  men  whose  great  and  supe- 
rior intellects  have,  Columbus  like,  explored  untraversed  seas  of  thought, 
and  brought  back  wonderful  treasures  from  lands  else  unknown. 

Yet  our  bond  is  not  that  of  scholarship  or  literature.  If  we  still  love 
literature,  if  we  still  cherish  the  sweet  sympathy  of  scholarship,  it  is  that 
their  true  purpose  may  be  fulfilled,  that  like  squires  and  henchmen  they 
may  burnish  the  armor  as  bright  as  gold,  and  tip  the  spear  with  diamond 
lustre,  for  which  we  are  to  do  our  part  in  the  great  good  fight  for  human 
welfare;  they  are  the  means  to  ends.  Ours  is  an  age  that  demands  songs 
for  the  army  of  pilgrims  to  the  arts,  the  sciences,  the  mechanical — songs 
of  labor,  of  sympathy,  of  hope ;  songs  that  hearing,  the  mighty  heart  of 
the  great  working  nations  may  gather  fresh  strength  and  vigor  for  their 
daily  and  weary  way  onward ;  songs  that  shall  nerve  the  sinking  heart 
and  give  broken  gleams  of  eternal  summer.  We  should,  therefore,  cul- 
tivate literature  and  a  love  for  books.  It  gives  to  us  the  precious 
thoughts  of  our  own  generation,  and  the  brilliant  minds  that  have  gone 
before  us.  It  enlarges  the  intellect,  improves  the  understanding,  allays 
and  soothes  the  passions,  but  above  all  these  it  emplants  in  the  heart  of 
man  the  true  principle  of  universal  brotherhood.  Where  else,  save  in 
the  rare  communion  of  friends,  are  hours  so  short  and  moments  so  swift? 
W7here  else,  save  in  their  tried  friendship,  do  we  awake  from  pleasure 
into  surprise  that  whole  hours  are  gone  which  we  thought  had  just 
begun  ;  blossomed  and  dropped  which  we  thought  had  just  budded? 

As  each  succeeding  year  is  added  to  the  calendar  of  the  past,  let  it 
ever  be  our  pleasure  to  meet  together  and  keep  this  feast  of  genial  fellow- 
ship, not  forgetting  that 

"  Great  souls  by  instinct  to  each  other  turn, 
Demand  alliance,  and  in  friendship  burn." 


THE   KNAPSACK      1887  117 


WE  CALL  the  head  of  our  office  the  "old  man."  He  is  not  so  very 
old,  but  he  is  absent-minded  to  a  degree ;  not  so  bad  as  the  person  who 
put  his  umbrella  carefully  in  bed  and  stood  himself  behind  the  door  all 
night,  but  absent-minded  enough  to  make  the  boys  grind  their  teeth  when 
he  forgets  points  they  carefully  tell  to  him.  Now  and  then  we  have  some 
fun  out  of  it,  as  this  incident  will  show.  Christmas  fell  due  on  Saturday, 
perhaps  you  will  remember.  On  Thursday  evening  the  old  man  beamed 
all  around  with  his  top  coat  buttoned  and  umbrella  in  hand,  which  he 
waived  airily  so  as  to  include  the  whole  force,  and  with  a  voice  modu- 
lated by  a  recollection  of  Scrogg  and  Marley,  said,  "Young  gentlemen,  I 
bid  you  good  evening.  It  is  perhaps  needless  for  me  to  remark  that  I  do 
not  expect  to  see  you  at  the  office  to-morrow."  Then  he  went  away  to 
find  that  to-morrow  was  not  Christmas.  He  had  the  office  all  to  himself 
on  Friday. 


n8  THE   KNAPSACK     1888 


EDITORIAL,  1888.        E.  W.  CARPENTER. 


CIRCULAR. 

EDITORIAL  FRONT  WINDOW,  410  CALIFORNIA  STREET, 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  Jan.  25,  1888. 

DEAR  SIR — presuming  that  the  work  pertaining  to  the  preparation  of 
annual  statements  is  over,  hoping  that  the  figures  thereof  were  full  of 
satisfaction  to  all  concerned,  and  that  I  may  now  find  you  in  just  that 
good-natured  mood  which  may  incline  you  to  devote  a  little  time  to  the 
filling  of  the  Knapsack,  I  say,  "  Send  along  the  copy." 

Write  it  up  before  the  close  of  the  month.  Write  it  with  pen  or 
pencil,  on  brown  paper  or  white  paper,  or  unused  agency — bond  blanks — 
but  get  it  in. 

Every  one  to  whom  this  circular  is  sent  can  remember  some  humor- 
ous incident,  or  some  quaint  conceit,  or  some  sage  suggestion  that  may 
have  achieved  existence  during  the  year  just  closed.  Put  it  down  and 
send  it  in !  Do  not  wait,  thinking  you  will  make  it  the  subject  of  a 
"  labored  effort "  at  a  later  date,  for  the  Knapsack  does  not  aspire  to 
being  considered  the  acme  of  literary  perfection  or  the  condensation  of 
universal  knowledge. 

While  my  able  predecessors  have  filled  considerable  portions  of  the 
Knapsack  with  the  choice  products  of  their  own  brains,  I  feel  that  neither 
time  nor  talent  will  permit  me  to  follow  the  precedent  thus  established, 
and  I  shall,  therefore,  content  myself  with  loosening  the  buckles  on  the 
20th  day  of  February  and  spreading  out  before  the  expectant  eyes  of  your 
comrades  a  repast  which  shall  be  generous  or  meagre,  in  proportion  as 
you  do  or  do  not  respond  liberally  to  the  foregoing  appeal. 


EDITORIAL. 

A    KNAPSACK  editorial  has   great    advantage   over   those  usually 
published,  from  the  fact  that  it  does  not  suffer  the  common  fate 
of  its  fellows  and  remain  unread.    The  editor  reads  it  himself, 
and  pours  it  into  the  ear  of  his  patron,  as  the  waiter  did  the  soup  into  the 
ear-horn  of  the  deaf  person,  whether  he  wants  it  or  not. 

The  temptation  to  write  an  editorial  under   such    circumstances  is 
exceptionally  great,  and  so  you  must  sit  and  take  it.     It  will,  at  all  events, 


THE   KNAPSACK     1888  119 


teach  you  a  practical  lesson  in  resignation,  and  that  is  what  we  all  need 
in  our  business. 

If  the  " other  fellow"  alienates  the  affections  of  a  pet  broker,  and 
secures  a  choice  line  of  business,  we  all  know  how  we  feel  inside,  and 
how  we  make  a  bee-line  for  the  P.  I.  U.  office  to  see  what  can  be  done 
about  it,  and  how  all  our  threats  of  resignation  from  the  Union  result  in 
resignation  at  last. 

If  a  customer  is  taken  away  from  us  by  an  agent  who  explains  to  him 
that  he  can  never  recover  anything  under  the  printed  conditions  of  the 
policy,  or  that  we  have  failed  to  insert  the  electric  light  permit,  or  to  pro- 
vide that  goods  in  show  windows  are  covered,  we  interview  the  person 
who  has  been  so  "shamefully  deceived,"  and  who  is  "so  sorry"  that  he 
did  not  understand  the  true  situation  before,  but  who  has  accepted  the 
other  policy,  and  it  is  "too  late  to  change,"  and  then  comes  resignation 
again. 

If  a  claimant  wants  payment  for  loss  on  property  that  we  never 
insured,  we  say,  "  Go  to  glory,  if  you're  headed  that  way; "  but  he  goes 
to  a  lawyer,  or  possibly  two ;  he  talks  to  his  friends  and  the  newspaper 
men  ;  he  writes  to  his  leading  San  Francisco  creditor ;  we  say  we  won't 
pay,  but  we  do— and  here's  resignation  again. 

If  our  companies  want  facts,  year  by  year,  more  and  more,  showing 
all  sorts  of  things  about  towns  on  this  shore,  we  kick  ( in  our  minds )  and 
mentally  roar,  then  bury  them  up  in  statistics  galore — just  here  resigna- 
tion comes  in. 

If  the  compact  makes  rulings  unjust  to  ourselves,  and  puts  all  our 
pleadings  upon  the  high  shelves,  we  wish  the  Union  was  "busted" — 
gone,  we'll  say,  to  the  elves ;  yet  we  swallow  the  doses,  though  our 
stomach  rebels — and  here's  where  lots  of  resignation  comes  in. 

If  a  man  who  is  buried  in  business  so  deep  that  he  has  hardly  time 
for  his  meals  or  for  sleep,  runs  the  Knapsack  one  trip,  he's  likely  to  leap 
right  out  of  the  straps,  and  out  of  them  keep— so  here 's  where  my  resig- 
nation comes  in. 


THAT  the  frailties  of  humanity  are  not  singular  to  the  insurance  bus- 
iness is  below  illustrated.  At  a  time  when  all  the  railroads  were  in  the 
pool,  I  had  occasion  to  borrow  an  electrotype  at  one  of  their  offices. 
Accosting  a  clerk  I  said  :  "The  manager  yesterday  agreed  to  let  me  have 
a  'cut.'  Can  I  get  it  to-day?"  Sweeping  the  restricted  horizon  of  his 
office  with  a  cautious  eye  he  eagerly  asked,  "Where  to?" 


THE    KNAPSACK     1888 


SMALL  CAUSE  OF  A  SMALL  FIRE,  AND  A  HEAVY  LOSS  AND 
HEAVY  ADJUSTMENT. 

EARLY  last  spring  a  wealthy  retired  New  York  merchant,  with  his 
family,  moved  into  a  handsome  dwelling,  which  had  been  thrown 
in  with  some  climate  he  had  purchased,  in  a  fashionable  suburb  of 
Los  Angeles. 

Shortly  after  the  family  had  become  settled  they  gave  a  dinner  to 
some  friends.  During  the  night,  or  rather  the  early  morning  after  the 
dinner  party,  the  family  were  awakened  by  a  loud  crash,  which  had 
evidently  occurred  on  the  first  floor  of  the  house.  The  various  members 
opened  their  bedroom  doors  in  much  alarm,  but  gaining  confidence  by 
numbers,  and  each  one  assuring  the  other  that  they  were  not  "  frightened 
a  bit,"  the  head  of  the  family,  with  one  of  the  older  members,  mustered 
up  courage  to  descend  the  stairs  to  investigate. 

When  they  opened  the  door  into  the  dining-room  they  found  consider- 
able smoke  in  the  room,  and  although  no  flames,  they  saw  many  places  on 
the  table  cloth,  carpet  and  heavy  portieres  that  were  smouldering  and 
smoking.  They  lit  the  gas  and  smothered  and  stamped  out  all  that  was 
burning.  The  room  looked  as  if  a  whirlwind  had  struck  it,  and  on  the 
dining-table  the  wreck  was  complete. 

After  the  table  had  been  cleared  a  heavily  embroidered  tablecloth 
had  been  spread,  and  in  the  middle  had  been  placed  the  epergne  which 
had  graced  the  table  during  the  dinner.  Among  all  the  handsome 
furnishings  of  this  luxurious  home  there  was  no  article  of  which  the 
owner  was  so  proud  as  this  epergne  —  heavy  with  solid  silver  and  much 
cut-glass  of  the  clearest  crystal,  it  was  indeed  a  marvel  of  the  artizan's 
cunning,  and  as  a  work  of  art  its  value  was  not  to  be  estimated  at  the 
mere  sum  of  $1,200,  which  represented  its  original  cost. 

This  beautiful  ornament  was  shattered.  Portions  of  its  clear  facets 
were  seen  sparkling  in  the  gas  light  all  over  the  room,  on  the  floor  and 
on  the  furniture,  and  of  the  silver  portion  of  it  there  was  not  a  piece  left 
in  its  original  shape,  nor  of  a  size  larger  than  one's  thumb. 

The  tablecloth,  carpet  and  portieres  showed  a  number  of  holes  burned 
in  them,  varying  in  size  from  an  inch  in  diameter  to  as  large  as  would  be 
covered  by  a  soup  plate. 

What  had  caused  this  disaster  the  astonished  and  frightened  family 
could  not  imagine.  They  decided,  however,  to  leave  everything  as  it  was, 
and  have  the  matter  investigated  by  detectives. 

After  breakfast  the  retired  merchant  reported  the  fire  to  his  insur- 
ance agent.  It  so  happened  that  the  special  agent  of  one  of  the  com- 


THE    KNAPSACK     1888  121 


panics  which  had  a  policy  on  the  furniture  was  at  Los  Angeles,  and  in 
the  local  agent's  office  when  he  called. 

The  special  and  local  accompanied  the  gentleman  in  his  carriage  to 
his  home,  and  the  three  at  once  proceeded  to  the  dining-room.  The 
special  was  appalled  at  the  sight,  for  his  quick  eye  took  in  at  a  glance 
that  even  though  the  fire  had  been  so  easily  smothered,  a  heavy  loss  had 
been  entailed  by  the  really  complete  ruins  of  the  embroidered  tablecloth, 
the  Moquet  carpet,  the  Turcoman  portieres  and  three  embossed  leather 
chairs,  to  say  nothing  of  the  epergne,  whose  value  he  did  not  then 
realize. 

While  he  was  mentally  calculating  what  his  company's  proportion 
would  be  of  a  say  $3,000  claim,  he  was  startled  by  a  crush  and  rattle  of 
the  glass  ware  on  the  sideboard. 

The  three  men  looked  at  each  other  helplessly  for  a  moment ;  but 
the  special  broke  the  silence  and  reassured  the  others  by  at  once  moving 
towards  the  sideboard,  and  saying  that  whatever  the  cause  of  the  commo- 
tion might  be  it  came  from  under  that  piece  of  furniture,  as  could  be 
plainly  seen  by  the  smoke  which  was  beginning  to  curl  up  around  it. 

The  three  men  had  to  exert  their  united  strength  to  move  the 
heavy  piece  of  furniture,  but  when  they  had  done  so  a  remarkable  spec- 
tacle met  their  gaze.  Several  holes  were  burning  in  the  carpet,  the  back 
of  the  sideboard  and  the  wall  were  spattered  with  blood  and  gore.  The 
ex-merchant  recoiled  with  a  cry  of  horror,  but  the  special  and  local  began 
to  stamp  out  the  fire.  They  noticed  peculiar  fumes  while  they  were  do- 
ing this,  and  after  they  had  completed  its  extinguishment,  they  began  to 
closely  scrutinize  the  carpet.  The  special  uttered  an  exclamation  of  sur- 
prise, which  was  instantly  followed  by  one  from  the  local,  and  each  at  the 
same  instant  held  up  something  for  the  other's  gaze.  What  the  special 
held  was  apparently  a  rat's  tail,  and  the  local  held  up  what  was  undeni- 
ably the  complete  head  of  a  very  large  rat.  They  were  satisfied  they  had 
found  the  source  of  the  blood  bespattered  on  the  wall,  but  what  it  all 
meant  was  certainly  a  puzzle. 

The  gentleman  of  the  house  had  drawn  near  when  the  insurance  men 
had  held  up  the  extreme  end  of  a  rat's  anatomy,  and  during  the  surmises 
which  were  being  made,  he  said  he  doubted  if  he  could  ever  get  his  place 
free  from  rats ;  they  had  been  the  bane  of  his  existence  ever  since  he  had 
moved  into  the  house,  which  was  completely  overrun  with  them. 

An  idea  seemed  to  strike  the  special,  for  he  suddenly  interrupted  the 
old  gentleman  by  asking  what  means  he  had  employed  to  rid  his  house 
of  the  pests.  The  ex-merchant  replied  that  they  had  proved  themselves 
too  wary  for  cats  or  dogs,  and  too  cunning  for  traps,  and  they  had  lately 


/22  THE   KNAPSACK     1888 

been  placing  poison  about  the  premises — in  fact,  he  knew  that  some  had 
been  placed  in  the  very  room  they  were  in.  He  called  his  butler,  who 
showed  a  box  which  had  contained  the  poison,  "The  Ready  Rat  Eradi- 
cator."  The  special  looked  at  it,  read  the  directions  and  the  effect  it  had 
on  the  vermin,  and  among  other  matter  read  that  it  greatly  puffed  up  the 
animal  that  ate  it,  and  death  was  due  to  its  bursting  the  stomach,  but 
this  effect  was  slow  in  being  accomplished ;  the  pain  would  lead  the  rats 
to  look  for  water,  and  they  would  therefore  leave  the  house  to  find  it, 
and  die  outside. 

The  special  smelt  the  inside  of  the  box,  but  could  not  detect  the 
peculiar  odor  of  the  fumes  that  had  been  noticed  when  they  moved  the 
sideboard.  He  asked  if  any  other  poison  had  been  used,  and  the  butler 
said  he  knew  the  coachman  had  used  some  around  the  stable,  but 
whether  it  was  a  different  kind  or  not  he  could  not  say.  The  coachman 
was  called,  and  he  said  he  had  procured  phosphorus,  such  as  he  had 
seen  used  for  squirrels  in  grain  fields. 

A  self-satisfied  smile  came  over  the  special's  face — he  understood  it 
all ;  the  cause  of  the  last  night's  crash  and  the  explosion  under  the  side- 
board but  a  half  hour  before  were  both  clear  to  him.  He  explained  to 
his  astonished  listeners  how  using  the  two  different  kinds  of  poison  had 
caused  the  whole  trouble — the  rats  had  eaten  some  of  the  phosphorus, 
and  had  come  into  the  house  and  into  the  dining-room,  and  had  there 
taken  some  of  the  "Ready  Rat  Eradicator;"  then  one  had  been  attracted 
to  the  table  by  the  fruit  or  bonbons  on  the  epergne,  and  while  on  or  near 
it  the  "Ready  Rat  Eradicator"  had  done  its  deadly  work,  had  blown  the 
rat  up,  and  scattered  the  phosphorus  it  had  swallowed  in  every  direction, 
burning  whatever  it  came  in  contact  with.  The  force  of  the  explosion 
was  severe,  as  shown  by  the  complete  wreck  on  the  dinning-room  table, 
and  by  the  breaking  and  rattling  of  the  glassware  on  the  sideboard. 
There  was  no  doubt  but  that  the  special's  theory  was  the  correct  one. 

After  the  matter  had  been  thoroughly  discussed,  the  special  said  they 
had  better  proceed  with  the  adjustment  then  and  there.  The  old  gentle- 
man replied  that  ought  to  be  short  work  as  everything  was  in  plain  sight, 
and  the  estimate  of  damage  was  simply  the  value  of  the  same  things  new, 
and  he  could  show  his  bills  for  everything,  as  he  had  bought  them  less 
than  two  months  previously. 

The  special  asked  him  to  get  his  bills,  and  as  the  old  gentleman  left 
the  room  he  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  as  the  probable  cost  of  the  handsome 
furniture  would  rise  up  before  him ;  and  turn  it  over  in  his  mind  as  he 
would,  he  felt  the  articles  were  completely  ruined,  and  he  could  make 
only  a  "total"  for  them,  as  they  were  brand  new.  The  old  gentleman 


THE   KNAPSACK     1888  123 


returned  in  a  minute  or  two  with  his  bills  and  also  his  policies.  The 
special  looked  them  over,  put  some  figures  down  on  the  back  of  an 
envelope,  which  he  took  from  his  inside  breast  pocket,  added  them  up 
and  saw  his  total  of  $3,570;  he  paused  a  moment,  and  then  told  the  old 
ex-merchant  he  regretted,  but  he  must  knock  off  $1,200,  the  cost  of  the 
epergne,  as  that  article  was  destroyed  by  explosion  which  preceded  the 
fire.  The  old  gentleman  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in  a  pitying  kind  of 
a  way,  as  if  he  felt  rather  sorry  for  him  for  making  such  an  assertion,  but 
the  special  accommodatingly  opened  out  each  policy  and  pointed  out  the 
lines  in  their  printed  conditions  referring  to  property  damaged  by  ex- 
plosions. The  ex-merchant  read,  and  saw  the  special  had  taken  the  right 
ground,  and  without  further  delay  they  agreed  upon  the  billed  prices  for 
the  furniture,  which,  less  the  $1,200,  footed  up  $2,370. 

The  three  then  drove  back  to  the  local  agent's  office,  where  the 
special  filled  in  the  proof  of  loss  blank  for  his  company,  and  then  handed 
it  to  the  retired  merchant  to  read  over  so  he  would  know  just  what  he 
was  to  swear  to  before  the  local  agent,  who  was  a  notary  public. 

The  old  gentleman  held  the  paper  some  time,  apparently  reading  and 
re-reading  it;  at  last  the  special,  who  was  leaning  back  in  an  arm-chair 
smoking  a  two-bit  cigar,  asked  him  if  there  was  anything  in  the  proof 
which  did  not  appear  to  be  in  order. 

The  old  gentleman  looked  up  sharply  and  said :  "Young  man,  there 
is  much  truth  in  the  saying  '  never  too  old  to  learn ;'  an  hour  ago  I  learned 
something  about  fire  insurance  by  your  pointing  out  to  me  a  clause  in  the 
policies  which  made  me  bear  a  loss  of  $1,200,  and  now  you  hand  me  a 
paper  which  I  must  swear  to  before  I  can  recover  for  the  damage  done  to 
my  furniture.  Now  this  paper  I  cannot  sign,  let  alone  swear  to,  for  I  find 
in  it  this  clause :  '  The  said  fire  did  not  originate  by  any  act  or  procure- 
ment on  my  part.'  It  was  certainly  my  act  setting  poison  for  the  rats, 
and  had  I  not  done  so,  or  rather  had  I  not  caused  it  to  be  done,  the  ex- 
plosion and  subsequent  loss  by  the  igniting  phosphorus  would  not  have 
occurred.  No,  no,  young  man,  I  cannot  conscientiously  sign  that  paper. 
I  am  too  old  to  go  back  on  the  truth  now ;  my  reputation  has  always  been 
that  'my  word  was  as  good  as  my  bond.'  This  is  another  point  in  fire 
insurance  I  have  learned  within  an  hour.  It  may  be  a  good  and  profit- 
able business  for  you  to  follow,  but  there  is  nothing  in  it  for  me.  So  I 
will  bid  you  good  day!"  and  with  this  he  walked  out  of  the  office  and 
entered  his  carriage,  leaving  both  special  and  local  in  a  dazed  condition. 

The  special  recovered  himself,  and  taking  his  cigar  from  his  mouth, 
blew  out  a  cloud  of  smoke,  and  exclaimed,  "Great  Scott !  that  is  the 
heaviest  old  adjustment  I  ever  participated  in." 


I24  THE   KNAPSACK     1888 


The  local  muttered  something  indistinctly,  but  the  special 's  sharp  ear 
caught  the  word,  "Rats!" 


INFLUENCE  OF   ASSOCIATION. 

EONCE  heard  a  paper  read  at  one  of  our  annual  meetings  on  the  sub- 
ject of  the  "  Influence  of  Association."  At  that  time  it  seemed  fit 
and  full  from  the  point  taken.  Not  long  since  I  listened  to  a  touch- 
ing story  tenderly  told,  and  in  twilight  hours  and  at  various  unexpected 
times  thereafter  this  story  came  and  came  again,  until  I  realized  that  it 
had  taken  a  dwelling-place  in  my  mind,  so  to  be  free  of  it  I  write  it  away, 
putting  it  in  the  Knapsack  like  a  bit  of  leaven. 

Once  there  was  a  man,  a  laborer.  He  was  not  intelligent  above  his 
fellows ;  there  was  nothing  commanding  in  his  appearance ;  he  was  only 
a  serious,  sober  man,  who  day  after  day  worked  patiently,  faithfully  at  his 
bench,  going  and  coming  with  scarcely  a  word  to  any  one,  and  yet  there 
was  something  about  him  which  prevented  his  comrades  from  rudely 
guying  him. 

After  many  days  it  was  whispered  that  he  had  a  sick  boy  at  home, 
and  from  time  to  time  he  found  in  his  hat  when  the  day's  work  was  done, 
a  bit  of  ribbon,  a  piece  of  colored  glass,  a  shining  pebble,  or  some  such 
trifle.  Nothing  was  said ;  he  understood  the  intent,  and  accepted  it  as 
quietly  as  it  was  offered. 

At  his  approach  the  profane  jest  or  rough  horse-play  would  stop,  and 
in  course  of  time  it  ceased  altogether,  and  what  was  formerly  a  tough 
gang  became  civil  and  decent  to  each  other.  What  they  could  not  see 
was  the  effect  of  their  small  gifts. 

In  an  attic  room,  ever  in  his  little  bed,  was  a  small,  deformed,  invalid 
child.  Before  him  on  the  counterpane  lay  spread  the  ribbon  and  the 
glass,  with  which  he  feebly  played.  There  was  no  other  person  about 
the  room,  and  when  he  heard  his  father's  heavy  tread  on  the  creaking 
stairs  a  light  came  into  his  faded  eyes  and  a  wan  smile  played  about  his 
wistful  lips.  Any  new.  gift  was  placed  in  his  thin  fingers  tenderly,  as  with 
a  woman's  touch. 

As  the  cold  days  of  winter  approached  the  father  became  more  and 
more  serious.  Deeper  lines  marked  his  face;  and  one  day  when  he 
carried  the  form  of  the  little  child  out  of  the  house  and  over  to  the  grave- 
yard, there  followed  him  at  a  respectful  distance,  every  one  of  his  fellow- 
workmen  ;  they  had  forfeited  half  a  day's  pay  that  they  might  help  to 
bury  the  boy  they  had  never  seen,  that  they  might  show  sympathy  for  a 
man  who  had  never  spoken  of  his  sorrow. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1888  125 


Mr.  President  and  gentlemen,  there  seems  to  be  a  subtle  "influence 
of  association"  which  is  controlled  by  something  besides  constitution  and 
by-laws. 


SOME  years  ago,  when  the  adjuster's  clause  was  more  in  use  than 
now,  a  fire  occurred  in  Pomeroy.  The  policy  had  the  adjuster's  clause. 
The  adjuster  figured  up  a  loss  of  $150,  and  his  expenses  at  $155,  but  told 
the  assured  that  as  he  wished  to  make  a  liberal  adjustment  and  leave  him 
perfectly  satisfied,  he  would  throw  off  the  difference  of  the  extra  five  dol- 
lars, and  call  it  square  ;  and  to  this  day  that  adjuster  seriously  insists  that 
it  was  a  liberal  adjustment,  as  he  could  have  figured  his  expenses  much 
higher,  but  somehow  the  assured  don't  seem  to  understand  it.  He 
knows  he  had  a  policy,  and  knows  he  had  a  fire,  but  does  not  know 
where  the  liberality  of  the  adjuster  came  in.  However,  he  is  still  keep- 
ing that  policy  as  a  souvenir  of  that  adjuster's  generosity — as  he  threw  off 
the  five  dollars.  The  Connecticut  can  tell  this  story  much  better  than  I 
have  done. 


ALL  SPECIALS  and  adjusters  who  have  traveled  in  Oregon  in  years 
ago,  will  remember  Berry,  the  cheerful  landlord  at  Junction  City  (with  the 
best  bedroom  off  the  parlor,  with  the  thick  feather  bed  that  smelt  like 
Florida  water),  who  made  up  in  attention  and  cheerful  words  to  his 
guests  ail  that  was  otherwise  lacking.  Berry  always  kept  his  property 
insured,  and  was  very  anxious  to  have  any  additions  or  improvements 
approved  by  visiting  insurance  men.  So  one  time  your  special  was  met 
by  Berry  at  the  depot,  when  the  conversation  ran  as  follows : 

Berry — I  want  you  to  come  right  over  and  see  how  safe  I  have  got 
my  wash-house  arranged  in  the  rear  of  the  hotel. 

The  special  went  with  him  and  found  a  large  kettle  nicely  set  in 
brick,  with  about  two  feet  of  brick  chimney,  with  a  stovepipe  passing 
from  the  brick  chimney  up  through  a  shed  roof. 

Special — Why,  Berry,  this  is  elegant,  nice;  very  safe,  indeed!  I  did 
not  think  you  had  sufficient  knowledge  of  insurance  and  the  fitness  of 
things  to  make  everything  so  absolutely  safe !  I  see  you  have  made 
but  one  mistake. 

Berry— What  is  that? 

Special — You  have  got  your  chimney  on  the  wrong  end  of  your 
stovepipe. 

Berry — You  go  to  hell — and  come  in  and  take  a  drink. 


126  THE   KNAPSACK     1888 


MODEL  AGENT. 

WHILE  traveling  through  Colorado  some  little  time  since,  I  hap- 
pened to  hear  of  a  very  good  thing  in  the  way  of  country 
agents.  The  story  runs  about  like  this : 

Some  few  years  ago,  in  a  remote  country  town  having  a  bank  and 
other  first-class  appendages,  with  weekly  stage  communication  with  the 
outside  world,  lived  a  gentleman  of  considerable  intelligence,  well  known 
in  the  community,  and  whose  financial  reputation  was  considered  ex- 
cellent. He  wished  to  become  a  full-fledged  insurance  agent.  He 
thereupon  sat  down  and  wrote  to  one  of  the  secretaries  of  an  Eastern 
company,  stating  what  his  condition  was  in  the  town,  making  reference  to 
the  bank  as  to  his  financial  standing  and  integrity,  and  requested  the 
agency  of  the  company,  believing  that  he  could  do  a  good  and  profitable 
business.  After  making  inquiry  the  secretary  sent  forward  supplies, 
together  with  commission  and  a  batch  of  policies. 

The  special  agent  who  had  charge  of  that  particular  department  was 
not  at  home  at  the  time,  and  somehow  in  the  press  of  business  the  secre- 
tary neglected  to  make  a  memorandum  to  call  the  attention  of  the  special 
to  the  fact  that  this  agent  had  been  appointed,  and  request  that  he  call 
upon  this  agent  and  make  full  report  of  the  town  and  other  conditions. 
So  the  matter  rested  about  three  years,  when  probably  the  supply  clerk 
or  some  other  circumstance  called  the  matter  up ;  and  the  secretary  then 
requested  the  special  when  he  visited  the  vicinity  to  make  a  call  upon  this 
appointed  agent  and  ascertain  why  he  had  not  transacted  some  business, 
inasmuch  as  the  promises  which  he  originally  made  were  "couleur  de 
rose,"  and  he  expected  to  do  quite  a  large  and  flourishing  business. 

So  in  due  time  the  special  visited  the  agent  and  after  being  favorably 
impressed  with  him  sat  down  to  ask  why  he  had  not  done  something  in 
the  way  of  the  insurance  business.  The  agent  turned  upon  him  with 
astonishment  and  said :  "Why,  not  do  business?  My  dear  man,  I  have 
been  doing  business  for  the  last  three  years ;  have  done  a  fine  business. 
The  premiums  that  I  have  taken  in  amount  to  nearly  $4,500.  I  have 
nearly  exhausted  my  supply  of  policies  and  intended  to  make  an  applica- 
tion for  a  new  supply.  I  cannot  understand  what  you  mean  by  not  doing 
business.  Why,  just  sit  down  here  and  I  will  show  you  the  amount  of 
business  I  have  done."  Whereupon  Mr.  Special  and  the  agent  sat  down 
and  went  carefully  over  the  register ;  found  that  he  had  issued  policies  in 
their  numerical  order,  all  appearing  to  be  in  good  shape  and  covering  as 
if  he  had  been  an  old  underwriter. 

"And,  by  the  way,"  said  Mr.  Agent,  "during  this  time  I  have  made 
my  regular  deposit  of  the  premiums  in  the  bank,  and  everything  is  in 


THE    KNAPSACK      1888  727 


good  form;  and  in  these  three  years  of  representing  your  company  I 
have  had  a  few  losses,  which,  of  course,  has  reduced  the  amount  some- 
what. I  will  call  your  attention  first  to  the  Smith  loss ;  that  was  caused 
by  defective  flue.  Of  course,  in  my  capacity  as  agent  it  was  necessary 
that  I  should  attend  to  this  matter,  and  I  have  done  so.  I  have  paid  the 
loss,  which  amounted  to  $150,  and  taken  receipt  therefore.  Then  there 
was  that  Brown  loss ;  that  was  caused  by  the  explosion  of  an  oil  lamp. 
The  damage  amounted  to— let  me  see — $75,  yes.  Then  Jones  he  had  a 
loss  of  some  $300,  caused  by  sparks  on  the  roof.  That  I  paid,  so  that  is 
all  right.  Then  Jacobs  had  a  loss  of  $200.  I  never  was  able  to  discover 
what  the  cause  of  that  fire  was.  At  all  events,  the  amount  of  the  losses 
that  I  have  paid  foots  up  $725.  Now,  take  my  commissions  off  of  this 
business  (amounting  to  $675),  and  there  is  in  the  bank  to  the  credit  of  the 
company  the  sum  of  $3,100.  If  you  wish  it,  I  will  give  you  an  order  for 
this  amount,  check  it  up,  and  we  will  square  the  thing  and  start  again." 

The  special  then  wanted  to  know  why  Mr.  Agent  had  not  made  his 
daily  reports,  and  sent  copies  of  endorsements,  reports  of  losses,  etc.,  to 
the  company ;  whereupon  he  expressed  the  greatest  astonishment  to 
think  that  it  was  necessary  to  take  any  such  course.  He  supposed  when 
he  was  appointed  the  agent  of  the  company,  that  he  was  a  little  company 
all  by  himself;  was  to  issue  policies,  take  the  premiums,  deposit  the 
same  in  the  bank,  and  simply  retain  his  commissions  from  the  same  ; 
that  the  balance  of  the  money  was  to  be  held  in  bank  subject  to  the  com- 
pany's order,  or  to  be  paid  out  in  the  event  of  loss.  The  question  as  to 
whether  losses  would  exceed  that  amount  had  never  entered  that  agent's 
head.  Of  course,  after  due  instruction  by  the  special,  he  left,  giving  the 
agent  to  understand  that  he  would  send  him  out  a  new  supply  of  policies, 
and  at  the  same  time  requested  that  hereafter  all  daily  reports  of  policies 
issued  should  be  forwarded  in  due  course. 


SOME  three  years  ago  a  fire  occurred  in  New  Mexico  to  a  general 
merchandise  stock,  with  damage  of  several  thousand  dollars ;  insurance, 
$2,000,  in  a  California  company.  The  stock  was  large  and  many  goods 
saved.  The  local  agent,  who  evidently  had  had  much  insurance  experi- 
ence admitted  a  total  loss  of  the  $2,000,  but  said  he  must  have  as  many 
goods  as  he  was  to  pay  for,  to  show  the  agent  of  the  company  when  he 
came  up.  So  he  took  $2,000  worth  of  the  saved  goods,  secured  them 
safely,  then  telegraphed  Cobb,  Winie  &  Co.,  general  agents  at  Denver, 
to  send  up  an  adjuster,  not  knowing  that  he  himself  had  made  the  best 
adjustment  ever  reported.  For  further  details  and  proofs,  ask  the 
Commercial. 


128  THE    KNAPSACK     1888 


DAMASCUS    BADLAM. 

EWAS  born  bad ;  my  parents  gave  me  a  bad  name ;  the  boys  call  me 
Dam  Bad  for  short,  and  I  like  it.  What's  the  good  of  being  good, 
anyhow?  Now  I  go  to  school  when  I  don't  play  hookey,  and  it 
makes  me  tired  to  see  them  good  boys  studying  away  for  dear  life,  afraid 
to  look  up  or  whisper,  or  throw  a  paper  wad,  the  teacher  is  all  the  time 
watching  them  so  sharp,  just  hoping  he  may  catch  one  of  them  so  as  to 
make  an  example  of  him.  You  betcher,  when  I  prance  in  I  make  things 
howl,  and  it  would  amuse  you  to  see  how  the  teacher  has  to  be  wiping 
his  spectacles,  or  blowing  his  nose,  or  regulating  the  stove,  or  fixing  the 
window  just  that  minute !  He  knows  I  'm  bad,  but  he  don 't  want  to  see 
the  proof  of  it,  for  it  would  take  all  his  time  lickin'  me  if  he  treated  me 
as  he  does  the  good  boys,  and  he  darsn  't  try  that,  for  he  knows  I  would 
bust  up  the  school  if  he  did. 

I  don 't  mind  telling  you  that  the  school  was  started  for  the  express 
purpose  of  keeping  me  quiet.  You  see,  I  always  did  make  things  pretty 
lively  in  our  neck  of  the  woods,  cutting  up  and  down  (principally  down), 
getting  in  on  the  apple  orchards  in  a  loose  and  independent  style,  running 
a  free  lance  into  the  biggest  watermelons,  and  "sapping  the  vitality"  of 
fresh  laid  eggs  in  a  way  that  made  the  other  fellows  wonder  what  they 
had  been  born  for,  anyway.  So  the  folks  started  the  school,  and  they 
sent  a  committee  of  boys  that  they  thought  would  have  some  influence 
with  me,  because  they  were  the  worst  boys  they  could  think  of  except 
me,  and  they  begged  me  to  join  in,  and  told  me  how  much  happier  we 
would  all  be  if  I  would  put  my  name  down  on  the  list  of  scholars.  You'd 
have  laughed  if  you  could  have  seen  the  style  I  put  on  when  that  com- 
mittee showed  up.  I  told  'em  that  I  had  a  contract  for  a  term  of  years  to 
rob  henroosts  for  a  city  poultry  dealer ;  that  come  what  might,  my  com- 
mission merchant  must  have  his  regular  supply  of  fruit  and  melons,  and 
that  they  knew  what  that  meant,  and  that  under  my  physician's  instruc- 
tions I  would  be  compelled  to  suck  eggs  all  my  life.  Do  you  know  this 
didn't  phase  'em  a  bit?  They  just  said:  "Baddie"  (they  called  me 
'Baddie'),  we'll  twist  the  rules  anyway  to  suit  you,  and  give  you 
exclusive  privileges  in  the  particular  directions  which  you  have  men- 
tioned, if  you  will  only  come  in." 

Well,  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  this  last  proposition  looked  like  business, 
as  it  gave  me  a  sort  of  dead  thing  on  the  melon  and  orchard  and  hen- 
roost business  all  to  myself,  for  if  one  of  the  goody-goody  milksops 
should  ever  get  up  courage  to  try  his  hand  in  my  line,  he  would  be 
barred  out.  But  I  didn't  let  on  that  I  was  the  least  bit  willing  to  join. 
So  they  kept  coming  and  coming  and  coming,  and  telling  me  how 


THE    KNAPSACK      1888  129 


anxious  every  one  was  that  "that  Dam  Badlam  should 'come  into  the 
fold."  They  agreed  to  have  a  teacher  that  used  to  be  a  "free  lance "  him- 
self, and  that  would  sympathize  with  me,  and  would  see  that  the  good 
boys  didn't  pick  up  any  of  the  stray  apples  when  I  shook  the  trees  ;  and 
they  agreed  to  make  a  rule  that  if  any  boy  left  the  school,  the  whole 
thing  was  busted;  so  this,  you  see,  made  me  "cock  of  the  walk,"  for 
they  all  know  they  must  treat  me  mighty  fine  to  keep  me  in,  for  I'm  bad, 
with  a  big  "  B." 

You  ought  to  come  around  some  day  and  visit  the  "Cornpatch 
School."  "Cornpatch  "  is  the  common  name  for  it,  but  when  we  want 
to  be  high-toned  we  call  it  the  Polytechnic  Interior  University,  and  some 
of  the  boys  have  gold  pins  with  P.  I.  U.  on  them,  but  I  just  think  that 
carving  the  letters  on  the  watermelons  I  pick  out  is  good  enough  for  me. 

It  is  as  good  as  a  circus  to  see  the  good  boys  try  to  live  up  to  the 
rules.  They  start  in  and  think  they  are  going  right,  then  first  thing  they 
know  they  run  slap  up  against  something  that  means  different  from  what 
it  reads,  and  then  they  get  licked,  and  then  they  start  again,  and  are  cer- 
tain they  are  right,  when  the  master  makes  a  rule  for  that  "train  and 
trip  only,  "  as  the  railroad  tickets  say,  and  then  they  get  licked,  and 
finally  they  get  rattled  and  don't  know  what  to  do,  and  don't  do  any- 
thing, and  then  they  get  licked,  and  then  when  they  see  me  pulling  down 
the  corners  of  my  eyes  at  them,  as  they  lay  across  the  master's  knee,  it 
makes  'em  feel  happy. 

I  just  had  great  fun  the  other  day  with  a  putty-blower,  and  hit  the 
teacher  with  it.  It  gave  him  a  pain  in  his  eye,  but  the  putty  was  there  to 
glaze  it  with,  so  guess  it  was  all  right.  (This  is  a  joke.)  The  Boardman 
boy  hit  a  fly  with  a  potato-blower,  and  you  ought  to  see  what  a  whaling 
he  got.  He  blubbered  out  that  that  Dam  Bad  boy  had  not  been  punished 
for  using  his  putty-blower,  but  the  master  said  his  ruling  was  that  there 
was  no  similarity  between  potatoes  and  putty,  and  that  the  latter  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  case.  He  was  lucky  he  didn't  get  whaled  again, 
for  the  teacher  could  just  as  easy  make  another  ruling  that  would  have 
given  him  one. 

I  told  the  teacher  one  day  that  if  I  were  one  of  the  other  boys  I 
wouldn't  stand  it.  He  said  that  they  had  to  stand  it,  and  it  was  no  more 
than  right  that  they  should  ;  they  were  born  good,  and  had  been  familiar 
with  rules  and  regulations  all  their  lives.  "Do  you  suppose,"  said  he 
"that  an  untutored  child  of  nature,  an  Apache  Indian,  who  whoops  up 
and  down  the  main  street  of  a  city,  clothed  in  nothing  but  his  war  paint 
and  his  scalping  knife  is  to  be  treated  the  same  as  a  good  young  dude 
that  walks  totteringly  along  in  a  stylish  costume,  and  with  an  oversized 
penknife  in  his  vest  pocket  ?  Not  much.  The  latter  must  be  '  run  in  '  for 


THE   KNAPSACK     1888 


carrying  a  concealed  weapon,  while  the  former  must  be  conciliated,  must 
be  furnished  with  scalps  fixed  up  to  order  from  the  nearest  hairdresser, 
must  be  provided  with  warm  blood  from  the  most  convenient  slaughter 
house,  and  every  precaution  must  be  taken  that  nothing  be  done  to  excite 
his  anger  in  a  way  which  would  interfere  with  his  ultimate  civilization. 
"So  it  is  in  your  case,"  said  the  teacher,  "  and  I  shall  always  rule  that  the 
boys  that  are  good  by  instinct  and  education  must  toe  the  mark  to  a  hair, 
but  that  the  greatest  leniency  must  be  shown  to  one  as  depraved  as  your- 
self. In  fact,  my  dear  Baddie,"  he  said,  "I  make  it  a  point  to  lick  the 
other  boys  as  often  as  I  can,  as  an  evidence  to  you  of  good  faith,  and  as 
a  proof  to  the  trustees  that  I  am  a  strict  disciplinarian." 

Let  me  know  what  day  you  can  come  around  to  the  P.  I.  U.  and  I 
will  put  some  of  the  other  boys  up  to  being  brave,  and  making  them 
think  they  can  do  the  same  as  I,  and  then  you  can  see  them  get  licked. 

ALL  THE  old  boys  of  the  profession  will  remember  with  feelings  of 
"soreness"  the  stage  trip  from  Walla  Walla  to  Boise  over  the  Blue 
Mountains,  through  Burnt  River  Canyon,  with  its  heat,  holes,  roots,  ruts, 
rocks,  dust,  and  doubtful  grub.  Upon  one  trip  the  stage  load  inside  con- 
sisted of  Sheriff  M.  and  wife,  E.  C.  Me  and  wife,  a  Mrs.  C.,  and  your 
"special."  We  were  all  hungry,  tired,  and  badly  bruised,  and  there  had 
been  no  conversation  for  an  hour,  when  passing  some  wild  flax  by  the 
road  side  one  of  the  gentlemen  remarked  that  the  fiber  was  good  to  make 
cloth,  another  that  the  seed  would  make  linseed  oil,  a  third  that  the  seed 
was  good  to  get  dirt  out  of  your  eyes,  the  first  that  the  flour  from  the 
seed  was  good  to  make  poultices,  when  Mrs.  C.,  who  so  far  on  the  trip 
had  not  spoken  a  word  to  any  one,  said  with  much  emphasis,  "If  we  had 
the  poultices  now  I  guess  we  would  all  know  where  to  put  them?" 

SOME  years  ago  a  "special,"  book  in  hand,  was  making  a  diagram 
of  Lewiston,  and  going  into  a  China  store  that  was  insured  in  the  com- 
pany he  represented  for  $2,500,  and  seeing  a  stock  of  probably  $5,000,  the 
following  conversation  ensued : 

Special — John,  how  much  goods  you  got  here;  how  much  cargo? 

Kwong  Mow — I  done  know.    What  for  you  want  know? 

Special— Me  all  same  as  taxee  man. 

Kwong  Mow — Very  lette ;  not  more  a  tousand  dollar. 

Special— Velly  good  ;  all  ritee,  John ;  you  burn  up,  I  pay  you  tousand 
dollar— all  ritee. 

Kwong  Mow — Mee  too  muchee  sabe — all  same  insurance  man ;  hab  a 
cigar? 


THE    KNAPSACK      1888  131 

A  TIMID,  NERVOUS  MAN. 

I  never  was  a  timid  man,  I  'm  a  pugilist  by  birth, 

I  always  hated  nervousness  more  than  anything  on  earth; 

I  've  bragged  about  my  fearlessness  when  I  was  in  my  prime, 

But  of  my  change  1  '11  tell  you  now,  and  tell  it  all  in  rhyme. 

So  if  you  will  attentive  be,  I' 11  do  the  best  I  can, 

To  tell  you  of  the  sorrows  of  a  timid,  nervous  man. 

I  've  battled  with  Old  Ocean  and  fought  all  thro'  the  war ; 
I've  been  whipped  by  Johnny  Sullivan  and  never  got  a  scar; 
I  've  gone  down  in  a  diving  bell  and  up  in  a  balloon, 
I  've  twinkled  with  the  other  star,  and  sailed  around  the  moon ; 
I  never  once  was  rattled,  but  now  I've  changed  my  plan, 
For  I  'm  full  of  woes  and  sorrows — I'm  a  timid,  nervous  man. 

I  've  read  about  the  engineer  who  threw  the  lever  back 

When  he  saw  a  headlight  on  the  curve,  and  but  a  single  track ; 

The  boy  upon  the  burning  deck ; — all  were  cowards  along  o  'me — 

Till  I  got  a  lively  company,  and  took  its  agency. 

I  assumed  to  be  an  honest  man  and  keep  my  shirts  so  clear 

That  Stillman  couldn't  catch  me,  and  then  I 'd  have  no  fear. 

Now  what  has  made  this  awful  change — for  I'  m  not  writing  stuff — 

What  is  the  fearful  trouble  that  makes  me  such  a  muff? 

It's  only  that  I  want  to  keep  my  premiums  at  the  top, 

My  expenses  at  the  minimum — my  losses  I  must  stop ; 

I  want  to  get  the  business  at  any  rate  I  can, 

But  Stillman  and  the  "Union"  make  me  a  nervous  man. 

I  've  tried  to  smuggle  stables  through,  as  dwellings  for  a  beast, 

For  if  it  only  could  be  done  thus  premiums  are  increased. 

The  cheerful,  rusty  stovepipe,  and  cotton  hanging  loose, 

I  try  to  cover  as  I  may,  but  it  really  is  no  use ; 

For  Stillman  and  his  horrid  ways,  his  fines  and  reprimand, 

Have  made  me  what  I  am  to-day — a  timid,  nervous  man. 

So  I'm  nervous,  I'm  timid — a  timid,  nervous  man; 

I  've  got  to  leave  a  business  that  makes  a  timid  honest  man. 


THE  KNAPSACK    1889 


EDITORIAL,  1889.        A.   J.   WETZLAR. 


EDITORIAL. 

EVERY  editor  of  a  newspaper  is  supposed  to  present  to  his  readers  a 
fine  salutatory,  and  custom  has  prescribed  such  duty  even  upon 
the  editor  of  the  California  Knapsack. 

No  one  more  so  than  this  editor,  perhaps,  realizes  the  pleasure  of 
this  part  of  the  work,  as  full  sway  can  be  given  there  to  all  the  sarcasm 
or  taffy  deserved  by  the  various  members  who  either  failed  to  contribute, 
or  did  contribute  to  the  success  of  this  publication. 

That  the  position  of  editor  of  this  paper  is  an  enviable  one,  the 
writer  has  as  yet  failed  to  ascertain,  and  he  was  led  in  the  sweet  simplic- 
ity of  his  life,  to  accept  the  position  in  the  belief  that  by  doing  so,  the 
many  and  varied  contributions  of  the  different  members  could  be  com- 
piled by  him,  at  the  sacrifice  of  but  little  time,  and  with  credit  to  himself 
and  the  Association. 

How  vain  and  transitory  are  the  things  of  this  life ! 

The  editor  believed  that  all  he  would  have  to  do  would  be  to  com- 
pile contributions,  which  he  firmly  believed  would  drop  in  upon  him  like 
an  avalanche.  Let  none  of  you,  my  readers,  for  a  moment  harbor  the 
same  thought;  it  is  to  say  the  least,  "illusionary." 

This  editor  issued  a  plain  little  circular  to  all  the  members  calling  for 
their  contributions  to  the  Knapsack. 

Since  that  time  he  has  been  almost  constantly  employed  in  drumming 
up  delinquents,  and  now  desires  it  distinctly  understood  that  to  those 
members  who  did  send  in  their  contributions,  not  this  editor,  but  the 
Association,  should  be  grateful,  as  the  editor  was  struck  with  the  peculiar 
idea  that  some  of  the  members  thought  they  were  doing  this  editor  a 
personal  favor,  by  contributing  their  little  effusions  to  the  Knapsack  for 
publication,  and  this  fact  this  editor  repudiates,  as  it  should  be  the  pleas- 
ant duty  of  every  member  of  the  Association  to  assist  and  contribute  to 
the  success  of  everything  conducted  under  its  auspices. 

Of  course  contributions  come  in  lively.  The  editor  believes  there 
were  just  four  special  items,  and  as  a  result  anything  good  that  appears 
in  these  columns  should  be  placed  to  the  credit  of  the  editor,  and  the  bad 
and  chestnut  flavored  articles,  to  the  members  who  so  kindly  contributed 
their  quota  to  the  success  of  the  publication. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1889 


There  are  a  few,  a  very  few  members,  of  this  Association  to  whom 
the  editor  feels  indebted  for  their  cheering  help  and  counsel,  and  such 
members  will  kindly  consider  themselves  thanked  in  due  shape. 

To  our  numerous  contemporaries  and  exchanges  we  also  desire  to 
express  our  high  appreciations  of  their  columns,  as  among  all  of  them 
including  our  Coast  Review^  not  a  single  article  worth  the  clipping  was 
found.  As  a  sequel  we  are  presenting  for  the  edification  of  the  members, 
a  "pot  pourri"  of  effusions  which,  whilst  not  as  weighty  as  though  they 
had  emanated  from  a  Grant-Carpenter,  or  a  Staple-Spencer,  will  remind 
one  of  the  time-worn  joke,  not  Kinne,  but  how  Kinne  do  it. 

We  will  therefore  proceed  and  see.        *        *       * 


FROM  NEW  JERSEY. 

of   the   jolliest  story  tellers  in  the  corps  of  adjusters,  in  New 
York  City  relates  the  following  joke  upon  himself,  which  needs 
to  be  heard  from  his  own  lips  to  be  fully  appreciated.     He  was 
called  to  adjust  a  loss  "way  down  in  the  Jarsies,"  and  relates  his  experi- 
ence something  in  this  wise : 

His  name  was  Levy.  The  goods — general  merchandise.  Just 
enough  goods  totally  burned  to  make  a  claim  on,  besides  an  unlimited 
claim  for  per  cent,  damage  for  smoke  and  water.  He  wanted  $6,000  loss 
and  damage.  "And  I  never  will  take  one  cent  less,  so  hold  me  Moses." 
I  went  to  work  in  earnest,  labored  with  his  books,  with  only  the  success 
of  finding  that  his  whole  stock  could  not  have  been  over  $5,000.  By 
inventory  of  remaining  stock,  got  the  totally  destroyed  down  to  $1,000. 
After  laboring  with  him  two  days  on  the  question  of  smoke  and  water 
damage,  I  concluded  to  give  him  $3,000.  Upon  approaching  that 
amount  in  my  investigation,  he  declared  with  hands  upraised,  "Oh,  I  am 
r-r-r-ruined  completely ;  I  am  busted.  I  can  never  uphold  any  more 
mine  het  in  pizzness.  I  shall  mine  selluf  hang."  At  last,  when  I  told 
him  that  it  was  the  best  I  could  do,  he  said,  "Dot  ruins  me;  but  how 
about  the  monish?  Ven  shall  I  that  git,  eh?"  I  told  him  I  would  draw 
a  draft  on  New  York  as  soon  as  he  signed  the  proofs,  and  swore  to  them. 
"You  vill  at  once  a  draft  draw.  Ish  good  dot  draft,  mine  friend?" 
"Perfectly,  sir."  "Vill  you  to  the  bank  go,  and  get  endorsed  that 
draft?"  "I  will."  "To  the  bank  we  go,  mine  frent."  So  I  went  to 
the  bank  with  him,  had  the  papers  signed  and  sworn  to,  and  gave  him  an 
endorsed  draft  on  New  York.  When  done,  he  said,  "Come  to  mine 
house,  mine  frent.  Ve  will  take  some  things  mit  mine  frau."  Having 


i $4  THE   KNAPSACK     1889 


sat  down  to  a  glass  of  extra  dry,  his  frau  asked,  "Have  settled  you  dot 
insurance  oop  dare?"  "Oh  yes,  we  have  settled  for  $3,000."  "Oh, 
mine  Gott,  mine  Gott,  ve  was  r-r-r-r-ruined.  Mine  Shakup,  wot  haf 
you  done?"  "Never  you  mind  mine  frau,"  says  Jacob.  Then  turning 
tome  he  says:  "Ve  have  settled  that  little  matter,  eh?"  "Yes." 
"You  pays  me  three  tousand  tollars,  eh  ?"  "  Yes."  "You  von  certified 
draft  gifs  me,  eh?"  "Yes."  "Veil,  den,  vot  ish  de  matter  wid  dot?" 
"  Why,  nothing,  I  hope."  "Dot  draft  vill  be  paid,  eh ?"  "Yes ;  it  is  as 
good  as  paid  now."  "Veil,  den,  I  tells  you  vot  ish  de  matter  with  dot." 
'•  What  is  it  ?"  Putting  his  thumb  to  his  nose,  and  twirling  his  fingers,  he 
said,  with  a  laugh:  "I  dells  you,  Mr.  Adjuster,  vot  ish  de  matter:  I— 
beats — you — shust — fifteen — hundred— tollars ! ' ' 

MORE  CALENDARS. 

Not  a  new  subject,  Mr.  Editor,  but  at  the  same  time  an  ever-varying 
one,  especially  as  this  year  brings  us  a  number  of  emblematic  or  allegor- 
ical designs  worthy  of  comment.  Space  and  time  limit  us  to  a  few.  The 
Glens  Falls  offer  a  suggestion  of  a  "cold  day,"  and  since  in  the  hands  of 
the  present  agents  they  are  not  likely  to  get  "left"  we  conclude  that  they 
are  on  the  lookout  for  a  "warming."  The  Long  Island  shows  a  picture 
of  an  old  woman  threatening  an  imp  with  a  switch ;  we  trust  this  does 
not  mean  that  they  intend  to  "whip  the  devil  around  the  stump."  The 
German-American  have  an  elaborate  and  well-executed  mythological 
design,  but  it  is  so  long  since  we  prosecuted  our  studies  in  that  direction, 
that  we  are  obliged  to  put  our  own  interpretation  on  it,  as  follows :  The 
central  figure,  the  Pythoness,  being  a  soothsayer  or  fortune-teller,  repre- 
sents the  "profit"  expected  for  the  year;  the  Spirit  of  the  Air  will  furn- 
ish the  wherewithal  for  the  blowing  of  the  company's  "road  agents"; 
the  Earth  indicates  the  sum  of  their  desires,  the  fence  being  consider- 
ately omitted;  the  Fire  Spirit  of  the  Lower  Regions,  or  "Infernal  Spirit," 
represents  the  bad  whiskey  found  on  the  road;  and  the  semi-ichthyle 
(consult  your  dictionaries,  gentlemen)  Water  Spirit  may  mean  that  the  com- 
pany is  still  "in  the  swim,"  or  more  probably  stands  for  the  "fishy" 
losses  expected  during  the  year.  But  the  climax  in  allegory  is  reached 
when  we  find  our  friends  Mann  and  Wilson  posing  as  angels,  and  distrib- 
uting Continental  policies  to  the  world,  though  the  safe  indicates  that 
such  action  is  not  entirely  disinterested. 

Time  and  space  forbid  reference  to  others. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1890 


EDITORIAL  1890.        A.  J.  WETZLAR. 


EDITORIAL. 
FELLOW  MEMBERS: — 

kNCE  more  the  Knapsack  greets  you  on  this  i4th  anniversary  of  our 
mutual  regard,  and  as  the  editor  tosses  it  off  his  shoulders  and 
unbuttons  the  straps,  its  weight  calls  loud  attention  to  the  fact 
that  you  fellow-members  (with  a  few  noteworthy  exceptions)  have  been, 
as  usual,  derelict  in  your  contributions,  which  bears  sad  testimony  to  the 
fact  that  you  are  willing  to  partake  of  meats  and  sweetmeats  dished  out  to 
you  regularly,  without  doing  your  share  of  support.  This,  therefore,  in- 
cites us  to  a  loud  and  vigorous  "  protest  and  kick."  Any  particular  part 
of  our  annual  observance  should  not  be  made  a  hardship  upon  the  one 
who  is  selected  as  editor,  and  who  as  a  consistent  member,  cannot  refuse 
to  act,  and  likewise,  it  never  was  intended  to  have  the  Knapsack  pre- 
sented as  an  individual  paper  or  essay,  but  everybody  is  expected  to  con- 
tribute something  for  the  amusement,  entertainment  or  instruction  of  the 
members,  which  the  editor  is  expected  to  collaborate  in  proper  shape  and 
present  to  this  Association. 

"Expectancy!"  How  vain  and  transitory  is  the  proposition.  Were 
it  not  for  a  few  consistent,  hard-working  members  of  this  Association  the 
Knapsack  would  now  be  buried  with  the  past. 

To  all  such  contributors,  the  Association,  through  the  editor,  hereby 
returns  its  thanks,  and,  so  as  to  recompense  them  for  their  kind  efforts, 
it  will,  in  this  issue,  with  the  kind  assistance  of  Professors  Lowden, 
Gurrey,  and  George  Grant,  present  to  their  astonished  gaze  such  beauti- 
ful spectacles  as  never  were,  shall  or  will  be  seen  (again)  on  this  side,  or 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Pacific  ocean.  In  this  superier  effort  they  have 
collected  together  a  number  of  subjects,  deservedly  much-talked-of, 
much-heard-of,  ever-to-be-remembered,  never-to-be-forgotten,  and  mirth- 
provoking,  simply  as  a  warning  to  derelict  contributors  of  what  they  may 
expect  if  they  do  not  respond  handsomely  hereafter.  If,  when  this  part  of 
the  Knapsack  is  produced,  the  members  will  kindly  refrain  from  hilarity, 
they  may  save  suspenders  and  vest  buttons,  and  owing  to  the  veil  of 
darkness  that  will  hang  over  the  audience,  all  jewelry  and  valuables 
should,  upon  entry  into  the  room,  be  given  to  the  editor.  The  associate 


136  THE    KNAPSACK     1890 

editors  and  professors  are  alone  responsible  for  anything  that  appears  in 
this  issue,  as  the  editor  is  at  the  present  time  doing  the  kicking. 

In  this  issue  we  present  to  you  essays  upon  scientific  subjects  from 
the  pen  of  celebrated  writers,  who  have  for  years  gone  by  been  well  paid 
for  their  efforts.  Whether  at  this  time  it  will  be  necessary  to  create  an 
assessment  to  pay  them  will  be  left  to  your  discretion  and  knowledge  of 
their  financial  condition. 

The  first  essay  is  as  follows :  « 

The  Coast  Review ',  January  No.,  1890,  page  28,  says  : 

"Does  water  burn  at  great  fires  ?"  and  quotes  from  a  Chicago  paper, 
experience  at  last  Boston  fire,  old  firemen  and  other  scientists,  that  "in- 
tense heat  resolves  water  into  its  original  elements,  and  thereby  adds  fuel 
to  flames." 

This  theory  is  correct  when  applied  to  the  Gulliverean  stream  of  a 
first-class  city  fire  department  (sprayed)  thrown  from  a  three-quarter  or 
inch  nozzle,  of  the  style  of  thirty  years  ago,  into  the  burning  mass  of  a 
seven-story  building  150  x  200  feet  filled  with  merchandise  manufactured, 
unmanufactured  and  in  process  of  manufacture— but  won't  apply  to  the 
stream  thrown  by  the  You  Bet  department. 

The  main  part  of  the  town  of  You  Bet  is  where  the  big  pipe  leading  to 
the  hydraulic  mine  crosses  the  Nevada  City  and  Dutch  Flat  road.  The 
Corners,  so-called,  were  occupied  as  hotel  and  saloon,  saloon,  brick  gen- 
eral merchandise  store,  whiskey  included  of  K.  &  Co.,  and  another 
saloon. 

When  Red  Dog  burned,  a  fire  department  was  suggested  for  You 
Bet.  To  suggest  was  to  act. 

At  the  point  where  the  big  mining  pipe  crossed  the  road  at  The  Corners, 
there  was  a  pressure  of  160  pounds  to  the  square  inch;  the  supply  was 
3,000  miners'  inches. 

A  connection  was  made  by  attaching  to  the  i6-inch  pipe  a  12-inch 
canvas  hose  banded  with  a  three-quarter-inch  manilla  rope;  to  this  was 
attached  a  Little  Giant  monitor  with  a  5-inch  nozzle  mounted  on  two 
logging-truck  wheels,  with  a  rear  lever  like  a  field  gun  to  keep  the  hose 
and  nozzle  from  kicking  or  bucking.  The  hose  was  long  enough,  fifty 
feet  or  so,  to  cover  the  business  part  of  the  town. 

Bill  Bangs,  foreman  of  the  hydraulic  mine,  was  elected  chief  engineer. 
Bill  knew  nothing  about  fire  departments,  but  knew  that  a  Giant  nozzle  of 
that  size,  under  that  pressure  would  cut  down  a  ico-foot  cement  gravel 
bank,  and  pledged  himself  to  knock  hell  out  of  any  fire  within  range. 

The  fire  department  was  ready  for  business. 

During  a  dull  season,  at  about  12  o'clock  one  night,  forty  or  fifty  pis- 


.»  f 

UNIVERSITY 


THE    KNAPSACK      1890 


tol  shots  called  out  the  fire  department.  Four  or  five  shots  meant  a  fight; 
forty  or  fifty,  a  fire. 

Bill  found  smoke  issuing  around  the  edges  of  the  iron  doors  of  K.  & 
Co.'s  store,  brought  the  monitor  to  bear  on  the  front  of  the  building,  and 
gave  orders  to  turn  her  loose — and  turn  her  loose  they  did.  The  stream 
took  doors,  windows  walls,  front  and  rear,  books,  stock,  furniture  and 
fixtures,  safe  included,  out  of  the  building  and  down  into  the  canyon ; 
cleaned  the  building,  as  the  boys  said,  as  clean  as  a  shot-gun ;  left  only 
the  side  walls. 

The  loss  by  fire  was  small ;  the  loss  by  smoke  not  reported ;  but  as 
usual  with  a  first-class  country  fire  department,  the  loss  by  water  took 
the  balance.  Boots,  shoes,  clothing  and  other  merchandise  not  more 
hazardous,  strewed  the  canyon  for  miles. 

The  special  who,  a  year  before,  made  a  favorable  report  on  that  fire 
department  and  water  supply,  and  recommended  a  small  appropriation 
towards  its  support,  and  had  gotten  a  special  rate  on  and  secured  K.  & 
Co.'s  risk,  paid  a  total  loss.  He  didn't  know  until  then  a  fire  department 
could  do  such  clean  work ;  but  to  the  utter  disgust  of  Bill  Bangs  (the 
foreman),  refused  to  entertain  a  motion  for  a  further  appropriation. 

The  You  Bet  stream  would  have  been  just  right  in  the  Boston  fire ; 
it  would  not  have  burned,  and  if  thrown  from  a  fair  distance  would  have 
been  worth  forty  drizzling  streams,  whilst  the  ordinary  fire  stream  would 
have  been  good  enough  for  You  Bet.  Both  were  misplaced,  and  the 
companies  stand  the  loss — that's  all. 

''DOWN  WENT  ." 

THE  RECORD  OF  A  YEAR'S  PACIFIC  COAST  UNDERWRITING. 

Written  by  E.  W.  Carpenter,  and  Interpreted  by  him  at  the  Annual  Dinner  of  the  Under- 
writers' Association  of  the  Pacitic,  February  19th,  1890. 

In  the  Spring  of  '89, 

Underwriters,  feeling  fine, 
Were  anticipating  profits,  very  tall ; 

All  the  cinch  bills  had  been  killed, 

Each  his  field  had  nicely  tilled, 
And  expected  a  contingent  in  the  Fall. 

So  ev'ry  fire  insurance  man 

To  grab  for  prem'ums  then  began  ; 
Each  strove  to  place  his  record  near  the  top. 

When  Seattle,  on  the  Sound, 

Did  every  one  astound, 
And  the  hopes  of  all  received  a  sudden  drop. 


138  THE   KNAPSACK     1890 


Down  went  the  entries  in  our  register  of  fires, 

And  though  we  tried  to  smile,  'twas  apparent  all  the  while 
That  contingent,  profit,  hopes  were  burned  in  Puget's  funeral  pyres 
Dressed  in  their  best  suit  of  clothes. 

Then  adjusters  rushed  pell  mell 

To  that  Northwest  corner ,  well, 

To  Seattle,  which  for  us  had  made  it  hot ; 

Each  intent  on  winning  fame, 

And  a  "  promptest  payment"  name, 
By  cashing  all  his  losses  on  the  spot. 

This  was  no  sooner  done, 

And  the  "ads "  had  just  begun 
To  announce  the  feats  of  those  who  felt  so  great, 

When  Spokane  got  her  hold 

Upon  another  pile  of  gold 
In  a  way  that  made  our  mournful  eyes  dilate. 

Down  came  the  drafts  which  so  enlarged  the  gaping  hole 
In  our  assets  very  small  and  extremely  hard  to  call, 
And  we  took  the  "sixty  days"  allowed  where  losses  high  did  roll, 
Dressed  in  our  best  suit  of  clothes. 


Now  we  didn't  rave  and  swear, 

For  none  of  us  would  dare 
To  do  this  save  against  the  P.  I.  U. ; 

But  we  all  began  to  kick, 

And  to  strive  to  find  a  trick 
Which  would  swell  our  assets  ere  the  year  was  through. 

But  then  Bakersfield  "chipped  in ;  " 

Ellensburg  next  gave  us  sin ; 
And  we  wondered  if  the  fires  would  ever  quit. 

Our  cash  got  low  and  lower — 

Then  we  drew  on  "home "  for  more, 
Yet  had  nothing  left  except  a  little  grit. 

Down  came  the  letters  from  headquarters  far  and  near, 

Asking  what  we  meant — if  'twas  really  our  intent 
To  lay  out  all  the  companies  upon  a  funeral  bier, 
Dressed  in  their  best  suit  of  clothes. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1890  139 


Now  the  underwriter 's  pale  ; 

Thought  that  '90  could  not  fail 
To  make  amends  for  fiery  '89 ; 

When  the  smash  of  rules  began 

By  that  wicked  "other  man" 
Who  could  not  be  coaxed  or  kicked  into  the  line. 

Then  all  were  in  despair, 

And  they  madly  pulled  their  hair 
As  they  stood  one  day  beside  Lake  Merrit  dank ; 

So  they  took  the  cut-rate  knife 

And,  to  settle  all  the  strife, 
Committed  hari-kari  on  its  bank. 

Down  went  the  bowels  of  our  business  in  the  lake 

And  the  vital  organs,  too  ;  so  that's  why  all  of  you 
Are  at  the  Maison  Riche  tonight  assisting  at  its  wake, 
Dressed  in  your  best  suit  of  clothes. 

LATELY  a  number  of  fire  insurance  agents  and  managers  appeared 
before  the  insurance  committee  of  the  Washington  Legislature.  Some  of 
them  for  and  some  against  any  legislation.  Among  the  latter  was  the 
secretary  and  manager  of  a  local  company  not  in  very  good  odor  with 
the  insuring  public.  When  this  gentleman  got  an  opportunity  to  make 
his  speech  he  addressed  the  committee  thusly: 

1 '  Mr.  Chairman  and  Gentlemen — I  am  opposed  to  any  legislation  at 
this  time.  If  you  knew  how  impossible  it  is  for  me  to  collect  money  from 
my  stockholders  to  pay  our  losses,  you  would  understand  that  it  would 
be  even  harder  to  get  them  to  put  up  any  capital. " 

CHARACTER   SKETCHES. 
DEARLY  BELOVED: — 

HE  Knapsack  has  for  your  entertainment  on  this  fourteenth  anni- 


versary of  our  mutual  regard,  a  series  of  pictures  representing  some 
of  our  members  in  situations,  striking  but  natural.     "With  charity 
for  all  and  malice  toward  none,"  we  have  tried  to  catch  the  prominent 
characteristics,  foibles,  weaknesses,  what  you  will,  of  the  various  subjects. 
The  accompanying  lines  received  with  each  picture  are  intended  to 
be  funny.     Nobody  but  the  author  knows  the  agony  of  mind  attending 
this  humorous  effort.    To  be  really  witty,  one  must  be  without  food, 
money  or  friends ;  when  the  stomach   howls  for  recognition,  the  brain 
takes  on  its  most  brilliant  tone.    What  then  can  a  well-fed  editor  hope 


140 


THE   KNAPSACK     1890 


for  in  his  attempts  to  draw  pen  pictures  calculated  to  win  an  honest  laugh 
from  an  audience  like  this  ?  The  cartoons  from  the  brush  of  a  well-known 
special  are  excellent. 

The  photographic  work  by  another  well-known  special  is  in  his  usual 
finished  style. 

Hence,  my  friends,  if  you  find  a  sentence  here  and  there  with  more 
sarcasm  than  fun,  more  personality  than  wit,  please  believe  it  to  be  in- 
tended for  innocent  amusement ;  at  all  events,  it  will  "  be  all  in  the  family,  " 
for  our  Eastern  friends,  editors  of  insurance  journals,  never  publish  the 
proceedings  of  our  wild  and  woolly  Western  Association.  This  may  be 
because  we  live  so  far  away  that  what  is  funny  in  February,  becomes  thin 
and  weak  in  June.  Or  it  may  be  part  of  the  courtesy  of  journalism  to  ig- 
nore what  has  been  first  published  by  a  rival. 

Whatever  the  cause,  do  not  forget  to  promote  the  interests  of  the  Pa- 
cific Coast  by  claiming  superiority  in  everything  home  born. 

The  idea  of  the  lantern  slides  is  new  with  this  Knapsack,  and  such  of 
you  as  feel  hurt,  because  you  have  not  been  held  up  to  ridicule,  can  be 
soothed  with  the  thought  that  next  year  you  will  probably  suffer  double 
abuse. 

MR.  WETZLAR'S  INTERVIEW  WITH  MR.  SHIPPEE. 

Everybody  knows  something  about  the  "harvester"  case  now  on 
trial  at  Stockton.  Our  artist  has  seized  the  moment  when  Mr.  Wetzlar  is 
serving  a  subpoena  upon  Mr.  Shippee.  Mr.  Wetzlar  says : 


THE    KNAPSACK     1890 


141 


"  Sir,  I  am  well  aware  that  you  do  not  entertain  for  me  that  high  re- 
gard which  Stockton  men  usually  have  for  gentlemen  from  San  Francisco 
(hold  !  do  not  shoot  yet) !  I  am  a  representative  of  the  United  States  Cir- 
cuit Court  (ah,  you  turn  pale) ;  in  my  hand  I  hold  an  order  for  your  ap- 
pearance before  the  Circuit  Court  in  San  Francisco.  Although  you  have 
no  exalted  opinion  for  me,  still  I  know,  sir,  that  you  take  an  interest  in 
me.  Personally,  Mr.  Shippee,  I  bear  you  no  malice ;  you  are  a  good 
man,  if  you  do  have  fits  (nay  do  not  foam  so  menacingly).  What  our 
insurance  people  most  earnestly  desire  to  know  is  how  you  can  manu- 
facture harvesters  at  a  cost  of  $165,  sell  them  for  $137.50,  and  make  a 
profit  of  $40.70  ? " 

To  this  Mr.  Shippee  replied,  in  that  sweet-toned  Sunday  voice  which 
he  carries  with  him:  "I  am  just  now  particularly  engaged,  but  if  you 
will  step  outside  for  a  moment,  I  will  explain  your  problem.  " 


In  the  second  picture  Mr.  Wetzlar  is  described  in  the  act  of  stepping 
outside. 


PETER  OUTCALT. 


Our  next  production  needs  no  introduction,  for  who  is  there  among 
you  that  will  not  at  a  glance  recognize  our  congenial  friend  and  fellow- 


THE   KNAPSACK     1890 


member  "Peter  Outcalt,"  sometimes  called  "the  Unabridged  Webster." 
Our  artist  caught  him  in  Seattle,  arguing  with  an  obdurate  claimant. 
Peter  is  too  gentlemanly  to  bulldoze ;  he  is  merely  explaining  that  he  will 
need  a  few  figures  from  the  claimant  preliminary  to  making  up  his  proofs 
— but  let  him  speak  for  himself:  "  In  the  few  remarks  which  I  have  had 
the  extreme  satisfaction  of  placing  in  array  before  your  mental  vision — 
weak  and  futile  though  perchance  they  may  ultimately  prove  to  be — I  can 
but  hope,  and  do  sincerely  trust,  that  'Altoego '  is  not  too  prominently 
characteristic  to  overshadow  the  impressions  which  I  have,  iip$ifa€toj 
sought  to  make ;  I  should  be  recreant  to  those  who  do  me  the  honor  to 


pay  me  my  paltry  stipendiary  emolument,  did  I  not  grasp  those  matters 
of  difference  so  common  between  the  parties  of  the  first  and  second  parts, 
and  finding  the  point  of  dissension  get,  as  it  were,  '  right  to  its  necktie ' — 
I  will  therefore  be  compelled  to  request  of  you  to  furnish  the  company  a 
tabulated,  corroborative  data,  from  which  it  may  be  possible  to  extract  in 
an  analytical  manner  and  summarize,  as  it  were,  your  loss" — 
The  claimant  died  next  day. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1890 


CHAS.   W.   DOHRMANN. 


JlND-PENDENT   RESTAUi 


This  subject  of  our  illustration  was  born  on  the  mutual  plan,  and 
raised  on  a  policy  originating  with  his  father — a  tontine — whereby  Charley 
got  all  that  was  coming  to  him.  He  commenced  his  career  as  president 
of  a  company,  and  having  extracted  all  the  credit  and  emoluments  from 
this  humble  beginning,  started  out  into  the  general  profession  as  a 
"local" — the  envy  of  them  all.  The  forked  tongues  of  envious  rivals 
were  continuously  clipped  by  this  modern  Sampson,  until  today  we  find 
him  among  the  leading  underwriters  of  the  coast,  and  the  general  agent 
of  the  baby  company  of  our  State. 

"The  Alta"  Insurance  Company  is  but  an  instrument  in  Charley's 
hands,  and  the  affection  between  the  company  and  agent,  as  displayed  in 
the  picture,  proves  that  "  one  good  turn  deserves  another,"  as  there  is  as 
much  evidence  of  pleasure  in  the  "Alta"  as  there  is  in  Mr.  Dohrmann. 


144 


THE   KNAPSACK     1890 


A.    R.    GUNNISON. 


Our  artist  here  presents  a  subject  ripe  in  years  and  full  of  honors — 
and  yet,  Mr.  A.  R.  Gunnison  is  not  too  ripe,  nor  in  his  honorable  career 
has  he  ever  been  quite  full.  His  gentle  assurance  to  the  claimant  is 


couched  in  the  choicest  legal  language,  to-wit:  "  It  is  clear,  this  fire  was 
not  accidental ;  the  fact  that  no  one  was  at  home,  that  no  fire  had  been 
built  in  the  place  for  a  week,  that  your  wife  took  her  best  dress  and  all 
her  jewelry  when  she  went  to  town  on  a  visit — all  this  goes  to  show  a 
motive  ;  then,  again,  there  was  no  insurance  on  the  furniture,  prima  facie 
evidence  of  a  deep-laid  plan  to  avert  suspicion.  I  will  give  you  one  dol- 
lar for  your  policy,  not  necessarily  as  an  evidence  of  an  adjustment,  but 
merely  as  a  precautionary  measure." 

To  this  the  claimant  replied:  "You  come  along  with  me,  it  ain't 
far,  only  to  the  river  ;  I  sized  you  up  the  minute  I  seen  you  ;  says  I,  durn 
a  man  who  wears  black  gloves — like  he  was  at  a  funeral." 


THE    KNAPSACK      1890 


'45 


FAYMONVILLE. 

The  next  on  exhibition  is  ye  genial  Faymonville— Bernard,  for  short. 

By  his  broad  and  massive  brow  ye  shall  know  him  as  a  most  earnest 
co-laborer.  Our  artist  caught  him  in  the  field,  where  he  was  rushing 
madly  along  the  road  from  Tuscon  to  Quijotoa.  It  seems  Faymonville 


had  heard  at  Tuscon  that  a  man  was  contemplating  the  erection  of  a 
store  on  that  road,  and  with  his  usual  eye  to  business,  he  rushed  off  to 
secure  the  insurance,  and  the  man  as  agent  for  his  company.  At  one 
time,  Mr.  F.  belonged  to  the  cream  of  the  earth,  to-wit :  was  a  local 
agent,  notary  public,  coroner,  justice  of  the  peace  and  undertaker;  in 


146 


THE   KNAPSACK     1890 


fact,  gathered  honey  all  the  day  and  raised  cattle  at  night,  when  there  was 
no  moon — this  he  did  for  his  health.  His  ambition,  however,  led 
him  to  this  city,  and  luckily  for  us,  he  is  now  safely  housed  with  the 
Firemans  Fund.  Under  high  temperature  his  massive  brow  troubles  him 
by  the  hair  falling  out,  but  in  this  great  and  glorious  climate  he  thinks 
clearly  without  reference  to  his  every-day  conversation. 

MR.   SEXTON. 

This  picture  represents  William  Sexton  feeding  the  lion ;  one  can 
plainly  see  there  is  but  one  William  Sexton  and  one  lion.  This  animal 
stood  for  quite  a  season  on  his  exalted  pedestal  in  front  of  Manager 


Dornin's  office— one  of  the  signs  of  the  times— but  one  day  he  came  off 
the  perch  and  said  he  was  too  thin  to  fool  the  boys,  so  Assistant  Keeper 


THE    KNAPSACK     1890 


'47 


Sexton  undertook  the  dangerous  task  of  filling  him  up  ;  for  this  he  was 
particularly  adapted,  having  associated  with  lions  all  his  life,  and  being 
something  of  an  "  intellectual  monarch,"  himself.  He  stuffed  the  lion  so 
vigorously  that  digestion  was  impaired.  The  chemical  action  of  the 
stomach  resembles  that  of  a  geyser  spring,  and  the  lion  commenced  to 
steam  and  smoke,  and  give  signs  of  internal  fire.  In  short,  his  stock  was 
away  off,  but  by  judicious  watering  he  regained  his  accustomed  footing, 
and  is  now  "on  deck"  once  more. 

Sexton's  "bete  noir"  is  baggage;  it  is  confidently  asserted  that 
when  he  goes  on  a  trip  he  puts  a  spare  collar  button  in  his  grip  and  never 
neglects  to  have  it  regularly  sent  to  his  laundry. 


A.   A.   SNYDER. 

Mr.   A.   A.   Snyder — or   Professor  Snidirini,    sword-swallower  and 
magician  (the  professor  always  works  in  his  pajamas)  born,  not  made, 


our  hero  left  Maine,  U.  S.  A.,  by  merchant  marine  for  la  belle  France  at 
a  tender  age.  Here,  amid  the  sunny  slopes  of  that  vine-clad  land  he  con- 
tracted an  accent,  together  with  that  graceful  repose  of  manner  for  which 


THE   KNAPSACK     1890 


he  has  since  been  truly  notorious.  After  a  protracted  absence  of  seven 
months,  he  returned  to  his  native  shore  by  the  county  road  and  canal  route. 
It  was  then  he  studied  legerdemain.  With  him  the  sword  is  mightier 
than  the  pen — he  can  get  away  with  the  sword.  This  is  also  true  of  his 
manipulation  of  the  assured.  Loved  by  all,  he  has  had  a  correspondingly 
active  life.  To  be  one  of  a  select  few  when  he  orders  a  basket  of  wine  is 
to  breathe  indeed. 

May  the  Lord  bless  him  at  His  earliest  convenience. 

C.   MASON   KINNE. 

Let  all  be  hushed  in  quiet  silence  whilst  the  band  plays  "Marching 
Through  Georgia,"  for  now  will  appear  that  great  warrior  in  battle  and 
non-concurrent  policies. 


"Col.  C.  Mason  Kinne,"  who  has  been  in  many  frays  and  always 
comes  out  unscathed  and  on  top.  Kinne  is  nothing  if  not  consistent;  an 
enthusiast  and  scientist.  As  an  adjuster  he  is  a  terror  to  the  incendiary, 
and  as  such  is  known  sometimes  as  "  Old  Sneuth." 

Our  artist  has  caught  him  in  Los  Angeles  in  the  act  of  making  a  dia- 
gram of  an  incendiary's  tracks.  This  diagram  is  elaborately  drawn  in 
black,  red,  yellow,  green  and  gold  chalks,  while  an  admiring  crowd  of 
fellow-adjusters  watch  his  every  movement  through  the  bars — where  they 


THE    KNAPSACK      1890 


149 


feel  quite  at  home.  You  will  perceive  that  Kinne  is  measuring  the  tracks 
with  his  celebrated  rule — g-inch ;  and  it  is  needless  to  add  that  he  success- 
fully tracked  and  convicted  his  man ;  verdict,  twenty-four  years  in  State 
Prison  ;  and  you  will  next  see  his  man  in  his  present  quarters. 

Hello !  It  appears  our  artist  has  made  a  mistake,  and  put  ' '  Old 
Sneuth"  behind  the  bars!  Will  the  colonel,  if  he  is  present,  kindly  ex- 
plain how  he  got  out? — for  virtue  is  its  own  reward. 


750  THE   KNAPSACK     1891 


EDITORIAL,  1891.        GEO.  F.  GRANT. 

EDITORIAL. 
GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  ASSOCIATION  : — 

TT  GIVE  you  greeting  for  the  year  1891.     The  Knapsack  may  be  a  trifle 
Jl      empty.    It  may  be  even  comparatively  thin  ;  if  so  it  is  the  easier  to 

bear. 

Possess  yourselves  with  patience;  listen  with  becoming  deference 
and  hide  your  emotions.  It  will  soon  be  over.  We  do  not  write  for  the 
Knapsack  in  hope  of  glory;  for  a  truth,  I  don't  know  why  we  write  for  it, 
but  assuming  it  to  be  for  some  good  object,  why  not  a  sermon  in  place  of 
an  editorial? 

A  few  years  ago  in  Los  Angeles,  while  walking  to  the  Santa  Fe  de- 
pot to  take  an  early  morning  train,  being  in  doubt,  in  spite  of  carefully 
worded  directions,  I  hailed  a  colored  brother  on  the  walk  for  further 
proof  of  my  bearings. 

With  a  smile  that  lit  up  a  broad  expanse  of  glossy  blackness  he  said, 
"Keep  a  steppin',  Colonel,  keep  a  steppin'  and  you  will  get  there."  In 
spite  of  the  original  manner  of  the  directions,  and  the  unusual  sound  of 
the  military  title,  which  was  enough  in  itself  to  distract  everyday  thought, 
I  detected  at  once  in  this  speech,  crystallized  and  glowing,  a  "gem." 
"Keep  a  steppin'  and  you  will  get  there." 

Fix  your  eye  upon  the  goal  and  never  stop  until  you  reach  it.  Do 
not  grow  weary,  or  if  weary  do  not  give  up ;  where  there  is  a  will  to 
achieve  there  is  a  way  to  accomplish. 

Fight  it  out  on  the  line  laid  out  if  it  takes  the  whole  season.  That  is 
the  deduction  I  draw  from  the  words  of  the  smiling  Ethiopian,  who 
thought  to  be  simply  good  natured,  nothing  more. 

From  time  to  time  epigrams  crisp  and  clean-cut  fall  from  the  lips  of 
great  men,  who  are  thereby  made  so  much  the  greater,  and  these  words 
live  in  the  world's  history,  reappearing  at  intervals  in  print  and  speech  to 
point  a  moral.  And  so  the  modest  words  of  my  dusky  friend  fell  upon 
my  ear,  "  Keep  a  steppin'  and  you  will  get  there"  ;  a  seed  fallen  by  the 
wayside  which,  springing  up  wet  with  morning  dew  and  warm  with  noon- 
day sun,  putting  forth  leaves  and  blossoms  until  grown  big  enough  to 
delight  the  eye  and  give  forth  perfume  free  to  all  who  pass  that  way ;  so 
these  words  took  firm  enough  possession  of  my  mind  and  stayed  green 


THE   KNAPSACK      1891  151 


in  my  memory  until  now.  Thus  I  give  them  to  you  for  what  they  may 
be  worth.  "Keep  a  steppin'  and  you  will  get  there."  Are  you  young  in 
the  business,  a  special  with  your  fortune  all  before  you?  Then  you  have 
many  and  many  a  heartache  yet  to  bear. 

For  that  genial  gentleman  who  is  at  the  head  of  your  office,  although 
himself  once  special  agent  and  comparatively  only  yesterday  hurrying 
over  the  road  at  the  direction  of  others  to  do  the  very  same  kind  of  busi- 
ness he  now  sends  you  about,  that  same  genial  gentleman  will  hold  you 
to  a  strict  accounting  and  rule  you  with  a  rod  of  iron  long  after  the  time 
when  you  have  proved  to  him  that  things  have  changed  and  he  is  the  one 
who  is  not  up  with  the  procession. 

"Keep  a  steppin'  and  you  will  get  there."  The  day  will  come  when 
you  feel  within  yourself  a  strength  born  of  hard  and  honest  work.  That 
day  is  your  emancipation.  "Keep  a  steppin',"  but  try  to  remember  when 
you  hold  the  lines  and  drive,  there  are  other  ways  of  getting  the  best  out 
of  a  willing  horse  besides  plying  the  lash. 

Are  you  an  adjuster  burning  the  lamp  at  night,  with  a  wet  towel 
around  an  aching  head,  digging  out  the  Kinne  and  the  Sexton  rule,  having  a 
catch-as-catch-can  encounter  with  non-concurrent  puzzles  and  co-insur- 
ance pigs  in  clover? 

"Keep  a  steppin1  and  you  will  get  there."  Ten  to  one  you  know 
more  now  than  the  celebrated  authors  you  worship,  for  my  dear  plodding, 
soft-hearted  friend,  it  is  not  the  man  who  knows  everything  that  receives 
the  plaudits  of  his  fellows,  but  the  man  who  has  the  faculty  of  putting 
what  little  he  knows  in  a  conspicuous  place  at  the  supreme  moment 
when  eyes  are  turned  his  way. 

"Keep  a  steppin'  and  you  will  get  there."  For  there  never  was  a 
square  adjuster  in  this  world  who  did  not  attract  attention  to  his  office, 
and  some  day  in  poring  over  the  pages  of  this  company's  business  the 
directors  will  put  you  in  a  conspicuous  place  as  a  marker. 

Are  you  a  manager  with  honors  thick  upon  you,  while  cares  and 
vexations  sap  your  life  and  send  you  tired  but  sleepless  to  an  exhausting 
bed ?  "Keep  a  steppin',"  but  take  the  Knapsack's  advice :  Don't  try  to 
do  the  work  you  graduated  from ;  have  the  same  faith  in  your  clerks  as 
your  employer  used  to  have  in  you.  Take  a  vacation  once  in  a  while; 
pound  your  ear  with  the  monotonous  roar  of  the  ocean  surf,  or  the 
whistling  breeze  of  the  mountain  top.  Don't  try  to  do  everything  in  one 
day.  Stop  a  moment  and  think.  You  are  now  on  the  shady  side  of  life. 
Your  tastes  are  few,  your  habits  are  fixed,  your  form  is  set  and  you  are 
hardened ;  you  are  a  type,  but  you  are  not  and  have  no  right  to  be  a 
flint.  "  Keep  a  steppin',"  for  there  is  something  for  you  to  think  of  be- 


/52  THE   KNAPSACK     1891 

yond  the  success  of  this  life.  It  will  do  you  no  harm  and  relieve  those 
about  you,  when  you  have  resigned  yourself  to  the  thought  that  you  can- 
not live  to  carry  out  your  cherished  plans  forever.  There  is  somewhere 
else  to  go.  "  Keep  a  steppin'  and  you  will  get  there." 


CAMP  TEN. 

^NE  day  I  received  a  telegram  from  San  Francisco,  requesting  me  to 
meet  the  assured  that  night,  take  Marysville  train  with  him  and 

proceed  to  Camp  No.  10,  and  adjust  a  mill  loss.  The  assured  was  a 
total  stranger  to  me,  and  I  did  not  discover  his  identity  until  just  before 
we  reached  Oroville.  It  was  then  2  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  we  decided 
on  an  early  start  and  filled  in  the  time  until  gray  dawn  lounging  about 
the  hotel  office  talking  in  subdued  tones  for  fear  of  disturbing  sleeping 
guests.  The  assured  agreed  to  all  my  proposed  plans  and  was  in  per- 
fect accord  with  the  smallest  details.  As  we  seated  ourselves  for  an  all- 
day  drive  I  thought  "How  seldom  it  happens  that  everything  is  so 
harmonious."  And  yet  there  was  an  unsatisfied  feeling  within  me ;  after  a 
short  attempt  to  analyze  it  I  gave  it  up  and  turned  my  attention  to  the 
assured  as  a  study  of  human  nature,  a  favorite  pastime  with  me. 

He  was  long  and  thin,  over  six  feet  in  height,  with  no  unusual  ex- 
pression of  face.  He  had  taken  the  lines  when  we  started,  and  although 
not  an  expert  driver  gave  evidence  of  familiarity  in  handling  a  team.  He 
sat  in  a  most  uncomfortable  position,  for  his  legs  were  so  long  they  had 
to  be  doubled  up  in  the  space  between  the  seat  and  the  dash-board,  and 
he  maintained  the  same  cramped  position  all  day  long,  working  the 
brake  with  his  right  hand.  For  a  few  minutes  after  we  started  he  chatted 
pleasantly  enough  but  soon  subsided  and  eventually  answered  my  re- 
marks in  monosylables. 

He  did  not  care  for  the  rugged  and  beautiful  scenery  along  the  road  5 
the  warmth  of  noon,  the  running  brook,  the  gorgeous  sunset,  had  no 
charm  for  him. 

He  had  consideration  for  the  team  in  climbing  an  ascent,  but  rattled 
down  hill  in  a  rapid,  careless  way,  which  caused  me  to  regard  him  with 
unusual  scrutiny  two  or  three  times  when  we  struck  steep  pitches ;  al- 
though he  was  aware  of  my  eyes  being  on  him  a  great  part  of  the  time, 
he  made  no  comment  and  appeared  unconcerned.  As  we  drew  near  the 
"Mountain  House,"  where  we  were  to  pass  the  night,  he  asked  sud- 
denly, in  an  anxious  way,  if  there  was  a  moon  tonight?  and  seemed  re- 
lieved when  I  answered  no.  Why  is  it,  I  thought,  as  I  dropped  out  of 


THE    KNAPSACK     189!  153 


the  buggy  at  the  tavern  door,  why  is  it  that  this  very  common-place  per- 
son disturbs  my  peace  of  mind.  I  shall  be  relieved  when  I  go  to  bed 
and  shut  him  out  of  my  thoughts. 

The  "  Mountain  House"  was  neither  a  dwelling  nor  a  hotel.  It  was 
a  place  where  travelers  to  and  from  Camp  No.  10  got  a  drop  to  drink  and 
a  bite  to  eat ;  the  price  paid  should  have  been  the  equivalent  of  a  downy 
bed  and  an  appetizing  meal,  but  the  reality,  alas,  how  different !  Here 
was  a  landlord  to  whom  a  pallet  of  straw  was  a  dreamful  couch,  and  a 
dried-apple  pie  a  luxury,  but  he  gave  his  guests  welcome  with  an  air  of 
hospitality  hearty  and  genuine.  After  the  usual  refreshment  at  the  bar, 
we  went  in  to  supper.  Now  for  the  first  time  I  saw  the  assured  without 
head  gear.  His  hair  stood  out  thick  and  stiff  all  over  his  head,  an  envi- 
able head  of  hair  to  a  man  of  forty-five,  but  it  seemed  to  neither  add  nor 
detract  from  the  appearance  of  this  man,  and  once  more  I  took  myself  to 
task  for  the  persistency  with  which  I  stuck  to  the  idea  that  somehow  he 
was  an  unusual  person.  Leaving  the  table  first,  by  accident  I  took  up 
his  hat.  It  was  so  small  it  perched  on  my  head  like  a  child's  hat.  In  a 
moment  he  came  out  and  settled  it  easily  over  his  shock  of  hair. 

"Well,"  I  thought,  "he  is  peculiar  for  his  small  head,  if  nothing 
else." 

The  "Mountain  House"  had  just  one  guest  chamber,  in  which  were 
two  beds.  I  was  tired  enough  and  the  thought  of  an  early  start  for  a 
round  trip  to  Camp  No.  10,  caused  me  to  turn  in  soon  after  supper.  Di- 
rectly in  came  the  assured,  walked  over  to  the  window  and  peered  out, 
muttering  to  himself,  "no  moon  yet."  Then  he  pulled  a  drawer  from 
the  bureau,  placed  it  on  top  of  that  article  of  furniture,  so  that  the  candle 
light  was  shaded  from  my  side  of  the  room,  got  out  a  yellow-covered 
novel,  lit  two  or  three  extra  candle  ends  which  he  took  from  a  small 
traveling  bag  and,  for  all  I  know,  read  until  morning.  Once  or  twice  in 
the  night  when  I  awoke  he  was  still  reading.  As  we  took  turn  about 
with  the  basin  and  towel  next  morning,  he  suddenly  asked  if  I  had 
money  with  me.  "Just  enough  for  expenses,"  I  replied.  "All  right,  I 
have  plenty,"  he  said.  "See,  this  is  where  I  hide  it,"  and  he  pulled  a 
good-sized  sack  out  of  his  pillow  slip. 

We  spent  that  day  at  the  scene  of  the  fire,  returning  to  the  "Moun- 
tain House,"  where  the  bureau  drawer,  the  candles  and  a  novel  came  in- 
to use  again.  Once  more  we  were  at  Oroville,  and  if  my  companion  had 
closed  his  eyes  in  sleep,  I  did  not  know  it. 

I  spoke  of  the  incidents  of  the  trip  to  my  family  and,  after  a  day  or 
two,  forgot  the  subject,  when  one  evening  my  wife  gave  an  exclamation, 
looked  up  from  the  newspaper  she  was  reading  and  said,  "this  must  be 
the  man  who  had  a  loss  at  Camp  No.  10.  Listen : 


154  THE   KNAPSACK     1891 


'Sensational  proceedings  for  a  divorce.'  'A  husband  shoots  at  his 
wife  because  she  is  too  lovely  to  live.' 

1  Evidence  of  insanity.' 

'  He  takes  a  prominent  citizen  to  Camp  No.  10  on  the  plea  of  sell- 
ing a  mine.' 

'  He  lashes  the  team  and  throws  away  the  lines.' 

'Arrayed  in  his  night  clothes,  he  shoots  at  the  moon  through  the 
window  of  the  '  Mountain  House.' 

'Curious  testimony  introduced.' 

'Full  particulars  in  to-morrow's  issue.'  " 


MR.  C.  W.  TAYLOR,  a  clever  newspaper  man  of  Puget  Sound,  writes 
the  following: 

"  Fire." 

The  wild  cry  rang  out  on  the  night  air.  Heads  were  thrust  hastily 
out  of  upper  windows,  excited  voices  uttered  quick  inquiries,  and  in  the 
distance  was  heard  the  clatter  of  the  engines  coming  nearer  and  nearer. 
From  a  large  building  around  the  corner  huge  volumes  of  dense  smoke 
poured  forth.  The  whole  floor  was  on  fire.  The  flames  had  not  as  yet 
communicated  to  any  of  the  floors  above. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  engines.  They  reached  the  scene.  The 
firemen  sprang  to  their  task  with  alacrity. 

But  an  unforeseen  contingency  presented  itself.  There  was  no  water. 
In  vain  the  faithful  men  made  the  requisite  connection  of  hose  and  water 
plug.  In  vain  the  engines  throbbed  with  superhuman  energy.  Some- 
thing had  happened  at  the  water  works. 

"Must  I  stand  by  and  see  my  house  burnt  to  the  ground?"  shouted 
the  owner  of  the  building,  with  tears  in  his  voice.  "  Can  nothing  be 
done?" 

The  chief  of  the  fire  department  shook  his  head.  He  looked  help- 
lessly at  the  crowd  that  had  gathered. 

Suddenly  a  great  light  shone  in  his  eyes.  With  the  quickness  of  a 
man  trained  to  act  in  emergencies  he  darted  into  the  crowd. 

There  was  a  sound  of  rapid  scuffling,  angry  protest  and  loud  threats, 
and  the  chief  emerged  from  the  crowd  with  a  large  bundle  in  his  arms. 

Calling  imperiously  to  his  men  he  ordered  the  front  doors  of  the 
building  to  be  broken  open. 

It  seemed  like  the  freak  of  a  crazy  man,  but  the  order  was  obeyed. 
With  a  yell  of  triumph  the  chief  sprang  into  the  burning  building,  fol- 
lowed by  his  men.  Grimy,  choked  and  blinded  by  smoke,  but  victori- 
ous, they  came  out  a  few  minutes  afterwards,  and  the  chief  gave  orders  to 


THE    KNAPSACK     1891  755 

return.    He  had  smothered  the  flames  with  the  trousers  of  an  English 
tourist. 

It  is  painful  for  me  to  make  diagrams  for  other  people's  jokes,  but 
the  fact  is  these  were  traveling  trousers. 

That  is  why  the  flames  were  checked.— ED.  KNAPSACK. 


EXTRAORDINARY  CASE. 

YOU  ask  me  to  give  you  the  most  extraordinary  case  of  adjustment 
in  my  experience.  I  will  do  so,  but  it  will  prove  disappointing. 
In  all  my  experience  during  a  long  period  of  years  this  case  stands 
by  itself;  nothing  like  it  has  come  under  my  observation. 

In  the  winter  of  '85  a  loss  occurred  of  which  I  received  notice,  and 
as  quickly  as  circumstances  would  permit  I  went  to  the  spot,  arriving 
four  or  five  days  after  the  fire.  No  sooner  had  I  registered  at  the  hotel 
than  a  clean,  fresh-shaved,  gentlemanly-looking  man  of  middle  age  intro- 
duced himself  as  John  Butler,  of  the  firm  of  Butler  Bros.,  the  assured. 
With  great  good  nature  and  perfect  composure  he  awaited  my  conven- 
ience, answering  questions  quickly  and  pertinently  meanwhile.  He 
agreed  to  follow  all  my  directions,  and  was  so  very  willing  that  I  mis- 
trusted him  from  the  first. 

He  conducted  me  to  a  building  to  which  his  stock  had  been  removed 
and  introduced  his  brother  James,  who,  if  possible,  was  more  smooth  and 
plausible  than  John.  As  I  glanced  along  the  shelves  and  over  the  coun- 
ters my  eyes  took  in  hastily  a  well-assorted  stock  of  dry  goods  neatly  ar- 
ranged, and  to  all  appearances  fresh  and  clean.  "What  is  your  claim," 
I  asked.  "A  trifle  over  twelve  hundred  dollars,"  was  the  reply.  I  said 
nothing,  but  thought,  "You  will  have  a  sweet  time  with  this  precious 
pair  before  you  are  done."  Mechanically  I  went  through  the  usual  words 
demanding  an  appraisement,  at  the  same  time  mentally  calculating  the 
expense  of  bringing  my  appraiser  from  home.  "Will  you  look  at  this 
inventory,"  said  James.  "We  have  just  finished  it;  John  and  I  hardly 
knew  what  to  do,  but  concluded  to  go  ahead  as  if  we  had  no  insurance. 
We  have  taken  account  of  stock  and  placed  our  assessment  of  damage  in 
this  column  here ;  the  woolens,  white  goods,  silks  and  what  not  are 
classed  by  themselves;  suppose  you  examine  a  piece  here  and 
there  and  see  how  it  strikes  you."  Eyeing  him  sharply  I  complied  ;  we 
went  from  place  to  place  according  to  my  direction.  Every  measure- 
ment came  out  to  a  fraction.  With  most  of  the  pieces  I  found  about  a 
yard  cut  off ;  this  was  the  outside  wrap  which  was  damaged  by  heat  and 


/5<5  THE    KNAPSACK     1891 


smoke.  I  was  puzzled  and  my  wits  were  hard  at  work  I  can  tell  you. 
" Suppose  we  visit  the  seat  of  the  fire,"  I  said.  The  fire  started  in  a 
building  next  door  to  my  claimants  in  the  second  story.  On  entering, 
the  usual  odor  greeted  my  nose;  here  was  a  scene  of  ruin  and  confusion, 
boxes  and  cartons  blackened  and  broken,  wet  ceiling  and  sloppy  floor. 
"Did  you  get  everything  out,"  I  asked.  "Yes,"  said  James,  "we  did, 
and  a  hard  time  we  had.  We  worked  all  night  long  the  first  night,  and  I 
thought  John  would  be  on  the  sick  list  sure." 

With  a  gleam  of  sense  penetrating  my  foggy  brain  I  asked  for  their 
books  of  account.  "Check,  tally,  check,  tally,"  everything  ship  shape 
and  in  good  order.  "See  here,"  I  said  desperately,  "can  you  make  an 
affidavit  that  your  loss  is  twelve  hundred  dollars?"  "Well,  no,"  said 
James,  "John  has  just  reminded  me  that  our  cost  mark  is  loaded  ten  per 
cent.  We  will  have  to  make  allowance  for  that."  I  looked  at  him 
helplessly— all  at  once  I  took  in  the  situation.  All  at  once  I  saw  the 
whole  thing  as  clear  as  day. 

The  men  were  honest ;  now  I  was  on  the  right  track,  and  I  followed 
it  up  carefully  and  proved  that  I  was  right.  We  had  no  appraisers  from 
home  that  trip;  we  had  no  appraisers  at  all.  It  is  the  only  case  of  the 
kind  I  ever  met. 


IN  AN  interior  New  York  town,  the  local  agent  of  a  fire  insurance 
company  is  stone  blind,  and  has  been  so  for  years,  while  some  of  the 
officers  to  whom  he  reports  are  not  aware  of  his  loss  of  sight.  (Exchange.) 

"Here's  a  state  of  things."  It  is  an  even  bet  that  this  man  knows 
more  about  a  hazard  and  sends  in  a  better  description  of  property  than 
the  average  agent. 

He  gets  his  information  of  a  risk  from  his  young  son,  and  gives  it 
more  thought  than  if  his  eyes  were  open. 

At  the  same  time,  what  kind  of  an  outfit  is  a  company  having  this 
agent  for  years  and  never  sending  a  special  to  find  out  how  blind  he  is  ? 


A  CERTAIN  manager,  whom  we  will  call  Mr.  X,  not  because  he  is, 
but  because  we  wish  him  to  be  unknown,  dropped  into  his  agent's  office 
in  a  town  in  the  Northwest.  The  agent  said :  "Mr.  X,  I  wish  you  would 
look  at  that  veneered  brick  building  down  there  and  tell  me  what  line 
you  want  on  it?"  So  away  posted  X,  and  soon  returned  with  the  reply 
that  he  had  tried  the  bricks  with  his  knife  and  really  could  not  see  any 
difference  between  veneered  bricks  and  any  other,  so  would  carry  as 
heavy  a  line  on  that  building  as  on  any  in  town. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1891  757 


OLD  JOE  BROWN. 

HAVING  on  a  recent  trip  occasion  to  use  a  team,  and  thinking  to  secure 
a  premium,  I  asked  the  stable  man  if  he  was  insured.  His  urbane 
and  deferential  manner  changed  at  once.  "No,"  he  savagely 
said,  "I'm  not  insured,  and  what's  more,  I  never  will  take  out  a  policy 
on  my  barn  again."  He  was  a  subject  for  me  and  the  following  story  is 
the  result: 

"  Did  you  see  that  blackened  ruin  as  you  came  into  town?"  said  the 
stable  man.  "That  used  to  be  my  barn.  When  the  hotel  caught  fire  it 
set  my  barn  off.  It  was  a  good,  substantial  building,  put  up  in  the  solid, 
old-fashioned  way,  and  I  kept  it  painted  and  repaired  so  that  it  looked 
every  bit  as  well  as  this  stable  we  are  in  now.  Well,  I  had  a  policy  of 
five  thousand  dollars  on  the  building  and  I  felt  pretty  good,  for  we  had  a 
chance  at  the  fire  to  run  out  all  the  stock  and  most  of  the  wagons. 

"  In  a  day  or  two,  along  came  an  adjuster,  a  nice,  pleasant  fellow, 
very  kind  and  sympathetic,  and  as  full  of  talk  as  a  political  speaker. 
'  Now,'  he  said,  '  what  you  want  to  do  is  to  pick  out  the  best  carpenter  in 
town.  I  will  get  another,  and  whatever  these  two  men  agree  is  the  cash 
value  of  the  building,  you  and  I  will  stand  by.' 

"  Nothing  could  be  fairer  than  that,  so  I  picked  out  old  Joe  Brown 
and  the  adjuster  brought  in  a  mild-spoken  stranger,  and  we  signed  papers 
and  swore  before  a  notary,  until  all  hands  were  tied  up  as  tight  as  a 
bottle  with  the  cork  in. 

' '  The  adjuster  and  I  agreed  to  keep  away  from  the  appraisers  and 
let  them  work  out  the  figures.  It  took  a  good  deal  longer  than  I  ex- 
pected ;  so  when  the  adjuster  said  it  was  10  o'clock  and  about  his  bed 
time,  I  decided  to  turn  in,  too,  and  get  the  figures  in  the  morning.  I  had 
a  room  at  the  hotel,  and  it  so  happened  the  mild-spoken  stranger  had 
the  room  adjoining,  and  he  and  Joe  Brown  were  working  there.  After  I 
had  gone  to  bed  I  heard  them  talking.  There  was  an  old  stovepipe  hole 
in  the  partition  and  every  word  was  plain  and  clear.  They  were  as 
friendly  as  kittens,  and  Joe  seemed  to  have  things  all  his  own  way.  So 
finally  they  footed  it  all  up,  and  it  came  to  a  little  over  six  thousand  dol- 
lars— no  dispute,  all  fair  and  square,  and  Joe  was  about  to  fill  up  the 
papers,  when  the  mild-spoken  stranger  said,  '  Now,  we  have  to  deduct 
the  depreciation.'  'O,  yes,'  said  Joe.  'I  quite  forgot  the  depreciation.' 
1  Ah,'  said  the  stranger,  '  it  is  easy  to  see  you  have  had  great  experience 
in  appraising  losses.  I  noticed  all  along  your  adaptability.'  'Well,'  said 
Joe  in  a  pleased  voice,  '  I  have  had  more  or  less  to  do  with  making  up 
figures  on  losses,  but  mostly  with  men  who  would  steal  the  coppers  off  a 
dead  man's  eyes.  Now,  you  are  as  fair  a  figurer  as  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.' 


i $8  THE   KNAPSACK     1891 

The  stranger  gave  a  little  cough  and  he  said,  'Well,  that  is  my  reputation, 
and  I  try  to  live  up  to  it.  By  the  way,  have  you  your  Tiffany  with  you  ? ' 
'How  is  that?'  said  Joe.  'You  see,'  said  the  stranger,  talking  right 
along  and  paying  no  attention  to  what  Joe  said,  'in  this  matter  of  de- 
preciation, Tiffany  of  New  York  is  recognized  as  authority  by  all  of  us 
expert  builders  and  contractors.'  'Oh,  yes,'  said  Joe,  'yes  indeed,  he  is 
so.'  'Tiffany,' continued  the  stranger,  'has  devoted  the  best  part  of  a 
well-spent  life  to  the  study  of  depreciation.  As  you  know,  he  has  it  down 
to  the  fraction  of  a  hair,  and  when  Tiffany  says  a  thing,  it  is  recognized 
as  a  fixed  rule.' 

"  4  So  much  so,'  said  Joe,  breaking  in,  '  that  I  would  just  bet  my  life 
on  Tiffany  being  right  every  time.' 

"  '  Let  me  see,'  said  the  stranger,  '  I  have  mislaid  my  copy ;  do  you 
happen  to  have  Tiffany's  book  with  you?' 

"'Well,  no,  not  here,'  said'Joe,  'I  always  keep  a  copy  at  the  shop, 
and  one  over  at  the  house.' 

"Here  the  stranger  had  a  coughing  spell  that  nearly  took  his  head 
off.  When  he  got  his  breath  he  went  over  to  the  adjuster's  room  after 
the  book.  If  it  had  not  been  for  my  agreement  to  keep  away  I  would 
have  told  Joe  right  there  to  hurry  up  and  give  me  a  chance  to  go  to 
sleep. 

"The  stranger  soon  came  back  with  the  book,  then  he  rustled 
around  among  the  papers,  and  finally  he  said,  '  Where  is  that  paper  that 
tells  how  old  the  building  is  ? ' 

'"Here  it  is,'  said  Joe  Brown;  'that  building  was  put  up  in  the  fall 
of  1870;  that  makes  it— let  me  see,  seventy— eighty— ninety— that  makes 
it  just  twenty  years  old.'  'Why,  so  it  does,'  said  the  stranger,  as  inno- 
cent as  a  child.  'Just  look  here,  Brown,  and  see  if  the  depreciation  is  as 
much  on  a  barn  as  on  a  dwelling.' 

"Joe  took  the  book  and  shuffled  over  the  leaves  for  some  time, 
while  the  stranger  was  writing,  then  he  said  something  about  his  eyes 
troubling  him  at  night,  and  gave  the  book  back. 

"'Ah,'  said  the  stranger,  '  that  is  the  only  thing  I  have  against  Tif- 
fany. He  will  print  his  book  with  such  fine  type.  He  ought  to  give  a 
magnifying  glass  with  each  copy.  By  the  way,  is  your  copy  like  mine  ? ' 

"  '  Just  exactly  the  same,'  said  Joe  Brown  hastily. 

"  '  Let  me  see,'  said  the  stranger.  '  Depreciation— depreciation— ah, 
here  it  is  on  page  389.  I  will  read  it:  'Frame,  livery,  hotel,  sale  and 
boarding  stables  depreciate  annually  4  per  cent.' ' 

"  '  Does  it  say  4  per  cent.? '  said  Brown. 

"  '  Yes.  Here,  see  for  yourself ;  and  on  page  384  it  says :  '  It  should 
be  remembered  that  all  percentages  on  buildings  are  based  on  the  actual 


77/E    KNAPSACK     1891  159 


life  of  the  building,  while  any  repairs,  such  as  painting,  renewing  the 
roof,  siding  or  flooring,  should  be  credited  to  the  building,  and  the  per 
cent,  of  depreciation  reduced  to  correspond,  for  the  reason  that  the  build- 
ing to  the  extent  of  the  repairs  has  been  renewed.'  That  is  clear  enough, 
don't  you  think?' 

'"Well,  yes,'  said  old  Brown,  sort  of  hesitatingly,  'that  seems  clear.' 

"  '  Well,  now,'  continued  the  other,  'in  this  case  the  question  is,  has 
he  kept  up  the  repairs  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,'  said  Joe,  '  he  has.    The  barn  was  in  first-class  condition.' 

"  'That  being  the  case,'  went  on  the  stranger,  'we  are  safe  in  allow- 
ing one  per  cent,  a  year,  which  leaves  three  per  cent,  depreciation  per 
annum,  or  for  twenty  years  sixty  per  cent.  I  am  disposed  to  be  liberal  in 
this,  as  I  have  heretofore  been,  all  the  way  through.  Say  we  call  it  fifty 
per  cent,  and  give  the  poor  man  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.' 

'"That  seems  very  fair,  indeed,'  said  old  Joe  Brown. 

"While  they  were  talking,  it  seemed  to  me  everything  was  going  my 
way,  but  when  they  stopped  talking  and  went  to  writing,  I  commenced 
figuring  up  in  my  mind.  I  am  not  very  quick  at  figures,  so  about  the 
time  they  went  out  together,  I  had  found  that  my  five-thousand-dollar 
policy  was  worth  about  three  thousand  dollars.  I  jumped  up  and  dressed 
mighty  quick  and  went  hunting  for  Joe.  Pretty  soon  I  met  the  mild- 
spoken  stranger. 

"'Hello,'  said  he,  'how  are  you?  Your  appraiser  has  just  gone 
home.  We  have  fixed  up  our  papers  and  have  been  down  to  the  notary 
public's  office.  They  are  all  sworn  to  and  I  shall  be  off  by  the  next 
train.  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  you  ?'  he  said.  '  Don't  you  feel  well?' 

"'No,'  said  I,  'I  am  sick.' 

"The  next  day  we  went  over  the  whole  ground  and  I  signed  their 
papers.  I  tell  you  I  was  afraid  if  I  waited  a  day  or  two  they  would  bring 
me  out  in  debt.  After  it  was  over  I  tackled  old  Brown.  When  he  got  as 
far  along  as  quoting  Tiffany,  I  just  snorted.  'Darn  your  fool  skin,  Joe 
Brown,'  said  I,  'you  never  knew  there  was  such  a  man  as  Tiffany  in  the 
world  till  that  doggoned  stranger  came  here.  Don't  you  know,  you  old 
mud-turtle,  that  Tiffany  is  a  big  jeweler  and  never  saw  a  jack  plane  in 
his  life?'  And  all  old  Joe  Brown  said  was,  'I  want  to  know.'  " 

"No,"  SAID  the  parson,  "we  will  not  have  our  church  building  in- 
sured. Such  an  act  would,  in  my  humble  mind,  show  a  disposition  to  fly 
in  the  face  of  Providence.  We  can  trust  God  to  look  out  for  His  own 
temple." 

"Well,"  said  the  timid  solicitor,  "you  may  be  willing  to  trust  Him 


160  THE   KNAPSACK     1891 


on  the  fire  hazard,  but  I  see  you  are  afraid  of  Him  on  the  lightning  ques- 
tion," and  he  pointed  to  the  nickel-plated  rods  on  the  church  spire. 


AS  OTHERS  SEE  US. 

THERE  were  a  number  of  adjusters  located  at  the  "Golden  Eagle" 
at  Sacramento  one  time.  It  was  not  so  much  of  a  loss,  nor  were 
there  suspicious  circumstances ;  two  men  could  have  completed 
the  adjustment  in  one  day,  but  the  officers  in  San  Francisco  could  not 
seem  to  agree,  and  each  company  had  a  representative  of  some  sort  on 
the  ground,  ranging  from  office  boy  to  manager ;  what  between  "com- 
mittee work"  and  individual  opinion  the  assured  was  in  a  highly  nervous 
state. 

While  the  committee  meeting  was  in  session  I  walked  out  to  that 
part  of  the  town  near  which  the  loss  occurred,  taking  the  assured  with 
me.  He  was  a  Southerner  and  had  put  his  darkey  boy  Sam  in  charge  of 
the  place  as  watchman.  Sam  had  followed  the  colonel  and  shared  his 
fortune  since  away  back  in  slavery  days.  He  was  a  typical  plantation 
hand  and  always  spoke  of  himself  as  a  "nigger."  After  inspecting  the 
ruins  and  just  as  we  turned  to  leave,  the  colonel  said,  "By  the  way, 
Sam,  have  you  seen  any  of  those  underwriters  about  here?"  "No,  sar; 
no,  sar,"  said  Sam,  "haben't  seen  'em,  sar;  spec  its  too  late  in  the  spring 
for  'em,  sar."  We  smiled,  and  the  colonel  said,  "Why,  you  rascal,  you 
don't  know  an  underwriter  when  you  see  him?" 

"Oh  yes,  sar,  I  know  'em."  "Well,  what  is  an  underwriter,"  said 
the  colonel  with  mock  severity. 

Sam  looked  scared ;  he  began  to  lose  confidence  in  his  own  knowl- 
edge. Big  beads  of  perspiration  stood  on  his  brow,  he  rolled  his  eyes 
rapidly  and  breathed  hard.  "  I  can't  jest  call  his  name,"  said  he,  "but 
he's  an  animal,  sar;  he's  an  animal,  an'  he  lib  in  the  watah,  an'  he  dig, 
an'  he  dig,  an'  he  dig,  an'  he  burrow,  an'  he  burrow,  an'  he  burrow,  an' 
bimeby  the  watah  git  in  whar  he  been,  an'  the  levee  break  ;  oh,  yes,  sar, 
I  see  plenty  in  Louisiana ;  he  bad  thing  to  hab  'round,  sar." 

"I  begin  to  think  so,"  said  the  colonel  musingly,  as  we  strolled  back 
to  meet  the  band  of  the  faithful  quartered  at  the  "Golden  Eagle." 

QUERIES. 

Q.    What  is  a  general  agent? 

A.  A  general  agent  is  one  who  combines  theory  and  practice ;  the 
theory  is  for  the  home  office,  the  practice  for  the  country  agents. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1891  161 

Q.    What  is  a  "local  secretary?" 

A.  A  conundrum  which,  although  no  one  can  guess,  is  not  given 
up. 

Q.     What  is  a  special  agent  ? 

A.  One  who  makes  or  mars  the  business  of  a  department,  but  who 
shares  only  in  the  reverses  of  the  department. 

Q.    What  is  a  local  agent ? 

A.     He  who  sells  premiums  to  the  general  agent. 

Q.    What  is  a  broker? 

A.    A  broker  is  the  person  who  eats  his  pie  and  still  has  it. 

Q.    What  is  a  Knapsack  f 

A.  An  annual  publication  in  which  appears  the  dullest  thoughts  of 
the  "brightest  minds  in  the  profession." 

Q.     What  is  salvage  ? 

A.  A  term  used  in  marine  insurance,  sometimes  improperly  used  in 
fire  insurance,  in  which  event  it  is  that  part  for  which  a  company  has  paid 
a  total  loss  but  which  is  subsequently  dug  out  of  the  ruins  and  sold  by 
the  assured,  for  the  benefit  of  the  assured,  without  publicity. 

Q.    What  is  the  future  of  fire  insurance? 

A.  Ask  me  something  else  partner.  I  have  been  in  the  business 
twenty-five  years,  and  I  don't  know. 


WHAT  is  the  moral  hazard  ? 

"This,"  writes  a  new  agent,  "is  an  unusual  question  to  me;  I  do 
not  understand  it.  If  you  mean  Mrs.  Jane  Doe,  the  assured,  she  is 
O.  K." 

Another,  where  a  Methodist  church  building  was  the  risk,  answered 
the  same  question  as  follows : 

"  My  wife  is  a  member  of  this  church,"  but  he  did  not  say  what  the 
moral  hazard  might  be. 


IST  OREGON  CITIZEN — I  thought  you  told  me  the  adjuster  who  came 
down  here  was  one  of  the  right  kind. 

2d  Oregon  Citizen — So  I  understood ;  what  is  there  wrong  with  him  ? 

ist  Oregon  Citizen— He  called  me  a  thief  and  a  liar  and  an  incen- 
diary, and  every  hard  word  he  could  lay  his  tongue  to. 

2d  Oregon  Citizen — Why  don't  you  have  the  law  on  him? 

ist  Oregon  Citizen — Because  he  can  prove  it. 


162  THE   KNAPSACK      i8gi 

THE  following  is  taken  from  the  page  of  a  ledger,  recently  used  in 
the  adjustment  of  a  drug  store  loss  at  a  remote  village. 

The  spelling  is  laughable,  but  the  real  humor  of  the  thing  is  grim 
enough.  He  who  runs  can  read  the  lesson  therein  contained.  Don't 
monkey  with  drugs. 

April  28.    Hals  Basom $i  oo 

"     30.    Wizerd  Oil i  oo 

May     i.    Hales  Hot  Tar 50 

2.  Spung 15 

Asid  Phosfat 50 

syrip  Figes i  oo 

3.  Citrat  Magnica 25 

Coton  and  Linament 25 

Gargel 25 

4.  Asavitedy 5° 

Scitlitz  Powers 25 

Tetegrof  for  doctor 25 

May     5.     Perscripshun i  oo 

Syring i  25 

Perscripshun 50 

Bed  pan 75 

6.  Perscripshun 15° 

7.  do      "        ioo 

ii  90 
May     8.        DED. 


TOjTAKE  EFFECT  AT  ONCE. 

There  is  a  stringent  regulation  of  the  P.  I.  U.— 

And  I'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once  ; 
That  rebates  shall  not  be  made,  to  the  many  or  the  few — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once. 
It's  as  grand  a  prohibition  as  anyone  could  frame, 

And  those  who  fail  to  heed  it  are  very  much  to  blame, 
Who  breaks  this  righteous  rule  should  feel  the  blush  of  shame- 

And  I'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once. 

There 's  another  resolution  that  really  should  be  passed — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once ; 
It 's  fully  as  important  as  the  one  I  spoke  of  last — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1891  163 


Let  all  policies  be  canceled  if  not  paid  in  sixty  days, 

And  withdraw  those  useful  papers  from  their  anxious  owners'  gaze — 
This  vote  should  be  unanimous  without  the  usual  nays — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once. 

And  now  to  be  consistent  let  me  name  another  plan — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once; 
It 's  as  fair  for  each  one  of  you  as  for  any  other  man — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once. 
When  your  losses  are  adjusted  and  ready  to  be  paid, 

Either  cash  should  be  forthcoming  or  a  certain  limit  made  ; 
Uniformity  of  action  on  a  basis  that 's  well  weighed — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once. 

There 's  a  sensible  decision  that  the  managers  could  make — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once ; 
This  concerns  the  special  agent — it  is  only  for  his  sake — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once. 
Give  that  useful  creature  rest  when  he  comes  into  the  city ; 

Don 't  worry  him  with  work,  but  have  a  little  pity ; 
Don 't  make  his  trips  so  long  but  heed  this  warning  ditty— 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once. 

In  closing  let  me  now  propose  a  comprehensive  toast — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once; 
It's  aim  is  somewhat  scattering  for  it  covers  the  whole  coast — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once. 
Here 's  to  one  who  in  this  business  swings  the  balance  of  all  power ; 

Who  wrestles  with  his  customers  and  with  ratings  hour  by  hour ; 
The  local !  may  sound  judgment  be  his  everlasting  dower — 

And  I  'd  like  to  see  it  take  effect  at  once. 

NILES. 


164  THE   KNAPSACK     1892 


EDITORIAL,  1892.  GEO.  F.  GRANT. 


EDITORIAL. 

AS  a  matter  of  course,  the  editorial  of  the  Knapsack  is  intended  as  a 
moral  and  philosophical  guide,  but  a  guide  to  the  young  only. 
This  is  so  for  two  reasons,  the  first  being  that  the  simple  fact  of 
my  having  lived  for  more  years  than  the  boy  pupil  gives  the  advantage  of 
an  experience  which  he  cannot  claim ;  hence,  he  takes  my  advice  believ- 
ing it  to  be  wisdom,  and  has  faith  that  my  deductions  are  sound ; 
secondly,  my  elders — bless  their  intellectual  bodies— have  no  use  for  ad- 
vice in  their  business.  Now,  in  this  edition  of  the  Knapsack,  it  will  be 
my  object  to  warn  my  young  friends  against  a  common  condition  of 
mind,  which,  unchecked  or  unrestrained,  leads  on  to  a  disagreeable  habit 
of  thought,  and  in  time  may  develop  the  "  Fuddydud."  A  "Fuddydud," 
as  I  know  him,  is  a  man  who  shares  an  opinion  with  himself  but  with  no 
other  person ;  still  he  is  quite  willing  that  everybody  should  know  what 
his  opinion'  is.  As  there  are  no  female  "Fuddyduds,"  there  is  no 
propagation  of  the  species.  He  is  not  confined  to  any  trade,  profession 
or  calling,  and  his  presence  among  underwriters  is  merely  incidental. 
Although,  according  to  holy  writ,  "A  fool  is  known  by  his  folly,"  a 
young  fool  often  escapes  notice ;  so  with  the  ' '  Fuddydud  "  ;  he  is  not 
ripe  as  a  rule  before  the  noontide  of  life.  The  signs  whereby  you  shall 
know  him  vary,  and  I  will  cite  but  one  or  two  for  purposes  of  recogni- 
tion. At  a  meeting  of  importance  called  to  consider  some  matter  of  mu- 
tual interest,  at  a  critical  crisis  he  will  speak  to  the  ' '  question ' '  at  some 
length  and  get  the  eye  of  the  chair  at  least  three  times ;  thus  he  can  ring 
the  changes  on  his  individual  opinions  without  stint,  and  he  contrives  to 
lend  a  humorous  turn  to  affairs  by  a  pun  or  a  joke,  which  was  jolly  before 
it  had  the  grippe.  The  "Fuddydud"  always  attempts  to  wear  what  is 
known  as  "a  merry  twinkle  of  the  eye,"  but  which  is  more  likely  to  be, 
as  Hamlet  says,  "a  fitful  havior  of  the  visage."  He  is  profound  on  sub- 
jects where  personal  experiences  are  allowed,  but  dumb  and  silent  when 
quick  wit  and  decisive  action  are  most  needed.  There  are  moments, 
however,  when  he  shines,  and  that  is  when  he  is  acting  as  a  peacemaker  ; 
but,  my  young  friends,  the  fact  remains,  that  you  can  be  a  peacemaker 
without  being  a  "Fuddydud." 


THE   KNAPSACK     1892  165 

There  are  a  great  many  good  people  who  do  not  know  a  "  Fuddy- 
dud"  when  they  meet  one,  and  they  misjudge  him,  classing  him  in  their 
minds  as  a  self-opinionated  ass  or  an  egotistical  bore,  or  some  such 
common  place  type,  which  is  wrong  and  really  an  injustice  to  the  "  Fud- 
dydud,"  who  is  of  a  different  species  and  a  higher  family.  One  pleasant 
feature  of  the  case  is  that  oftentimes  those  who  knew  him  well  before  he 
contracted  the  habit  are  blind  to  his  "fuddydudism,"  and  see  him  only 
as  they  used  to  know  him  in  the  golden  past,  when  his  large  heart  and 
broad  views  gave  joy  and  satisfaction  to  no  end  of  friends.  My  object, 
my  dear  young  friends,  is  to  warn  you  while  there  is  time,  just  as  I  would 
advise  you  to  be  grammatical  in  your  speech,  because  it  is  the  habit  of 
good  society,  or  because  it  saves  you  a  burning  blush  of  shame-faced  con- 
fusion, as  is  the  case  when  your  honest-hearted  girl  corrects  your  English. 
There  is  one  kind  of  "Fuddydud,"  however,  with  whom  I  have  no  pa- 
tience; he  is  the  bold,  aggressive  bulldozer,  who,  knowing  of  his  "fud- 
dydud  "  habit,  still  jams  it  down  your  throat,  so  to  speak,  in  order  to  see 
you  wriggle,  just  as  little  boys  cut  angle  worms  in  two.  But  after  all,  dear 
friend,  if  you  are  growing  into  that  kind  of  a  man,  it  matters  little  what 
the  Knapsack  thinks  or  has  to  say  on  the  subject ;  a  spade  is  a  spade  and 
a  brute  is  a  brute  the  world  over.  I  have  been  told  that  the  most  offen- 
sive kind  of  a  "Fuddydud"  is  one  who  edits  a  paper.  I  have  had  so 
little  experience  in  such  business  that  I  do  not  know,  but,  really,  I  hope 
it  is  not  true. 


THE  following  letter  from  a  Chicago  special  will  prove  spicy  reading. 
He  adjusted  losses  in  a  camp  for  several  companies,  some  of  whose 
agents  report  East  and  some  West : 

Dear  Sir:  Many  thanks  for  your  letter  of  introduction.  This  is  a 
great  place  and  a  great  people.  The  first  day  of  my  arrival  I  was  pre- 
sented to  ten  citizens,  classified  as  follows:  Three  generals,  four 
colonels,  two  captains,  one  private. 

I  hardly  liked  to  ask  these  officers  where  they  won  their  straps,  but  I 
learned  incidentally  that  one  of  the  generals  got  his  title  from  the  fact 
that  he  was  "general  freight  agent"  of  the  P.  I.  &  Z.  Railroad,  and  that 
all  of  the  colonels  were  from  Kentucky.  This  seems  to  account  for  the 
"C.  J.  Society,"  of  which  I  soon  became  a  member  by  acclamation. 
The  only  qualification  necessary  to  join  the  "  Corn  Juice  Society"  is  the 
ability  to  take  seven  drinks  between  lunch  and  dinner. 

The  one  private  mentioned  is  your  agent,  who  seems  to  have  tactics 
at  his  fingers'  ends.  With  his  assistance  I  was  enabled  to  adjust  the  loss 
with  satisfaction  to  all  concerned. 


1 66  THE    KNAPSACK     1892 


CIMEX  LECTULARIOUS. 

THE  time  has  come  to  give  to  the  Knapsack  the  story  of  my  err 
counter  with  the  cimex  lectularious.  It  is  true  I  had  met  him  in  a 
more  or  less  familiar  way  here  and  there,  but  until  now  I  had 
failed  to  be  impressed  by  him,  and  had  never  felt  a  sensation  of  fear  in 
his  presence.  The  other  incidents  of  the  trip  (for  of  course  it  was  a 
special  trip)  were  sufficiently  varied  and  startling,  but  the  whole  would 
have  been  tame  and  soon  forgotten  but  for  the  cimex  lectularious.  It 
was  just  at  the  end  of  summer.  There  was  but  one  train  each  day  to  and 
from  Los  Angeles,  and  by  the  time-card  one  could  plainly  see  that  from 
Modesto  to  Tulare  the  arrivals  and  departures  were  at  unseasonable 
hours.  A  stay  of  twenty-four  hours  in  each  town  and  broken  rest  every 
night  is  enough  to  rasp  the  nerve  and  spoil  the  temper  of  the  best-natured 
man  in  the  business.  Such  was  my  trip  and  it  was  five  o'clock  one 
morning  when  I  reached  Visalia,  too  early  for  breakfast  and  too  late  to 
go  to  bed,  which  I  would  have  liked  well  enough,  for  I  had  dozed  against 
a  stiff-backed  day  coach  since  two  o'clock.  It  is  plain  to  me  now  that  I 
had  no  more  sense  than  to  wear  myself  out  voluntarily ;  and  I  was  yet 
too  new  in  the  work  to  secure  a  good  room  immediately  on  arrival. 
During  the  day  the  usual  inspection,  adulation  and  devotion  served  to 
keep  things  going  at  a  lively  pace ;  but  after  supper  nothing  but  thoughts 
of  bedtime  and  slumber  were  in  my  mind.  I  paid  little  attention  to  the 
landlord's  words  of  apology,  "the  last  room  in  the  house,  grangers'  con- 
vention in  town,  do  better  to-morrow,"  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  The  room 
had  a  bed  and  a  window ;  that  was  enough ;  then  again  there  was  a 
mosquito  netting  like  a  huge  tent  over  my  couch, — the  better  for  undis- 
turbed sleep  I  thought.  I  did  not  even  growl  at  the  half  inch  of  candle. 
What  matter?  I  only  wanted  it  long  enough  to  strip  off  my  day  clothes. 
Oh,  the  delight  of  that  half-minute  of  wakeful  bliss  just  before  your  eyes 
close  for  the  last  time  and  your  limbs  stretch  out  in  a  cool  new  spot, 
restful  and  free. 

How  long  I  slept  I  can't  say, — perhaps  two  hours, — when  of  a  sud- 
den I  was  wide,  staring  awake;  no  noise,  not  a  sound,  save  a  distant 
clock  with  a  giddy,  rapid  tick,  and  yet  I  was  alarmed,  mentally  disturbed. 
What  was  it?  I  felt  "creepy,"  as  the  girls  say;  before  I  knew  it  I  was 
out  on  the  floor  with  the  candle  lighted.  I  looked  out  of  the  window  ; 
nothing  to  be  seen  but  bright  moonlight  and  black  shadow.  Uncertain, 
yet  firmly,  I  inspected  the  bed.  Horrors  !  What  a  sight!  It  was  given 
over  body  and  bolster  to  the  cimex  lectularious.  He  climbed  the  can- 
opy in  numbers.  He  was  marshaled  in  company  front  on  the  pillow- 
case, and  performed  military  maneuvers  on  the  counterpane.  Hundreds, 


THE   KNAPSACK      1892  167 

yes,  there  were  thousands  of  them,  every  one  of  them  at  home  and  re- 
ceiving visitors.  To  gather  up  my  clothes  and  shake  them  carefully  in 
the  hall  was  the  work  of  a  moment.  Descending,  I  found  a  knot  of  owl- 
like  grangers  talking  mule.  If  there  is  an  unprofitable  subject  outside 
a  race-track  it  is  horse  talk.  With  some  irritation  I  took  a  seat  under 
the  porch  with  my  back  against  a  post  and  my  feet  in  a  chair.  I  slept 
like  a  top  until  all  at  once  my  feet  dropped  with  a  dull  thud  ;  and  the 
voice  of  the  clerk,  he  who  had  pulled  away  the  chair,  said  something 
about  "time  to  lock  up."  For  a  few  moments  the  resounding  air  was 
alive  with  my  burning  words,  until  the  clerk,  who  was  not  more  than 
half  full,  realized  that  it  was  a  sober  man  who  talked  so  earnestly.  With 
something  of  an  apology  he  yielded  the  chair  and  locked  me  out  of  the 
hotel.  As  the  sound  of  his  receding  footsteps  died  away  I  was  once 
more  asleep.'  The  exact  hour  of  my  next  awaking  is  unknown,  but  in  a 
bewildered  and  helpless  way  I  was  conscious  of  much  light  without  the 
power  to  distinguish  objects.  While  engaged  in  a  futile  endeavor  to 
drive  something  from  in  front  of  my  eyes  I  heard  a  deep  voice  growling 
out  a  demand  to  know  what  I  did  there.  In  time  I  beheld  a  person  with 
a  bull's-eye  lantern.  He  proved  to  be  the  night-watch ;  in  fact  the  entire 
police  force  stood  before  me.  He  was  uniformed  in  an  Iverness  cloak, 
slouch  hat  and  carpet  slippers,  and  was  armed  with  a  crooked-necked 
cane.  I  rose  and  requested  the  department  to  be  seated  while  I  related 
my  story.  When  I  told  the  experience  with  the  cimex  lectularious  he 
was  convulsed  with  laughter,  and  made  such  an  outrageous  noise  that  I 
was  obliged  to  arrest  him ;  but  soon  he  departed  on  his  own  recogni- 
zance in  order  that  he  might  finish  his  beat.  From  time  to  time  he  re- 
turned, and  each  time  woke  me  up  to  inquire  how  I  was  getting  on  now. 
On  these  occasions  he  swept  my  feet  off  the  chair  quite  easily  and  seated 
himself  for  a  chat. 

I  was  dreamily  comparing  him  in  my  sleepy  mind  with  the  hero  in 
the  play  called  "Nick  of  the  Woods."  This  hero  held  the  stage  during 
most  of  the  performance,  and  moved  about  with  a  step  which  was  often 
referred  to  as  "soft  as  a  panther's  tread."  While  I  was  groping  for  in- 
formation which  would  explain  why  the  Jibernanessy  should  carry  a  dark 
lantern  I  became  once  more  conscious.  This  time  my  friend  had  chosen 
to  seat  himself  without  removing  my  feet,  and  while  I  struggled  to  re- 
cover them  I  talked  some  plain  American  language  to  more  fully  illus- 
trate what  I  thought.  Imagine  my  surprise  when  a  cheerful  but  strange 
voice  replied  in  pretty  much  the  same  strain  as  the  form  of  my  own  ad- 
dress. This  voice  gave  evidence  of  indulgence  in  strong  liquor ;  and  I 
was  not  much  surprised  when  an  invitation  to  go  and  take  a  drink  fol- 
lowed. In  order  to  gain  time  I  engaged  the  last  arrival  in  conversation, 


168  THE   KNAPSACK     1892 

and  soon  learned  more  of  his  past,  present  and  anticipated  future  than 
often  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  mere  chance  acquaintance.  After  parrying  the 
invitation  to  drink  several  times,  my  companion,  after  fumbling  in  his 
clothes,  brought  out  a  bright,  shining  six-shooter,  which  he  held  in  a 
wavering,  uncertain  grasp,  at  the  same  time  saying  in  a  decided  tone, 
"  My  young  friend,  you  come  along  with  me  and  drink."  "Why,  cer- 
tainly," I  answered,  springing  to  my  feet,  "which  way?"  "This  way," 
he  answered,  pointing  his  weapon  over  the  face  of  the  country.  Grab- 
bing him  on  the  off  side  of  his  pistol  arm  I  helped  him  over  to  the  grog- 
gery,  which  fortunataly  was  closed. 

He  was  quite  indignant  that  the  bar-keeper  should  dare  to  lock  up 
the  place,  and  commenced  to  get  ugly.  Acting  on  a  thought  I  suggested 
that  he  should  go  to  the  bar-keeper's  house  while  I  remained  to  keep 
guard  over  the  saloon.  After  considering  this  proposal  with  solemn 
gravity  he  decided  not  only  to  perform  his  part,  but  to  awaken  the  sleeper 
by  a  shot  from  his  pistol.  No  sooner  was  he  out  of  sight  than  I  was  back 
in  my  chair,  again  asleep.  When  next  I  awoke  it  was  from  a  shake 
given  by  the  night-watchman.  "Did  you  hear  that  shot?"  said  he. 
"Come  along,  there  is  murder  going  on."  As  he  sped  away,  his  cloak 
flapping  in  the  breeze  he  made,  he  looked  not  unlike  one  of  Dore's  birds 
of  ill-omen.  I  never  saw  him  again,  for  at  this  moment  the  long  whistle 
announced  the  approach  of  the  train.  Gray  dawn  had  come ;  the  hotel 
clerk  reappeared,  and  mechanically  carried  my  chairs  indoors;  the  'bus 
rattled  up  to  the  depot  and  rattled  back  again  with  nothing  but  a  mail 
sack  for  its  pains;  the  night  had  passed;  a  day  had  dawned. 

When  the  livery  stable  man  came  down  to  the  barn  I  was  waiting 
with  my  grip.  He  drove  me  over  to  Tulare,  and  talked  all  the  time.  I 
could  not  even  get  a  nod.  At  that  time  the  crowning  glory  of  Tulare  was 
the  Railroad  Hotel,  owned  and  run  by  the  Southern  Pacific  people ;  it 
was  clean  and  wholesome.  If  I  remember  aright  I  went  to  bed  at  10:30 
in  the  forenoon,  and  never  gave  a  sign  of  life  until  breakfast  time  the 
next  day.  Twenty  years  of  travel  has  never  given  me  such  a  shock  as 
that  encounter  with  the  cimex  lectularious . 


A  NEW  agent  always  wants  to  write  policies ;  of  course  I  mean  an 
agent  new  to  the  insurance  business.  One  of  this  kind  sent  in  his  maiden 
effort  with  a  pat-on-the-back  sort  of  a  letter  with  it.  His  "daily"  read 
as  follows : 

"One  thousand  dollars  on  household  and  kitchen  furniture,  bedding 
and  such  other  articles  as  are  contained  in  a  family."  In  reply  I  asked 
him  if  this  was  intended  to  cover  breakfast  or  lunch. 


"X" 

, 


THE   KNAPSACK     1892  i6g 


TEXAS  is  full  of  small  general  agents,  many  of  whom  do  their  special 
work  by  mail.  I  know  of  one  of  said  general  agents  who  made  a  certain 
appointment  by  letter.  Not  hearing  from  the  new  agent  in  six  months  he 
proceeded  to  take  the  train  to  look  up  his  supplies.  Arriving  in  the  town 
he  made  inquiries  for  Mr.  So-and-So,  and  found  that  the  gentleman  had 
sold  out  four  months  before,  and  had  gone  away.  After  some  difficulty 
he  found  the  purchaser  of  the  business,  and  made  inquiries  for  his 
supplies. 

"  Don 't  know  anything  about  any  supplies.  I  bought  Mr.  Blank's 
real  estate  business,  and  he  threw  in  some  old  insurance  blanks,  which  I 
burned  up." 

"But  surely  you  didn't  burn  them  all  up.  How  about  the  policy 
blanks  and  my  register, — a  book,  a  good  big  book,  about  that  long?" 

"Oh,  let  me  see.  I  think  there  was  some  kind  of  a  book  marked 
'register' on  the  outside.  I  took  that  over  to  the  hotel  and  sold  it  for 
one  dollar." 

Repairing  to  the  hotel  our  general  agent  found  his  "book"  being 
used  as  a  hotel  register,  with  six  pages  of  arrivals  already  "in  force." 

THE  cupidity  of  the  average  loan  company  is  admirably  distanced 
in  the  case  of  a  Utah  farmer,  who  recites  that  the  agent  agreed  to  give 
him  $1,000  insurance  for  fifty-three  dollars.  But  when  he  received  the 
policy  he  found,  much  to  his  disgust,  that  it  indemnified  him  to  the  ex- 
tent of  $1,500.  He  writes,  "  This  wasn't  your  agent's  agreement,  and  if 
you  don 't  fix  it  right  I  won 't  keep  your  policy.  If  that 's  the  way  you  do 
your  business  I  don't  want  anything  more  to  do  with  you."  And  who 
questions  the  moral  hazard  of  Utah  ?  It  might  be  well  to  add  in  explana- 
tion that  the  premium  paid  was  for  $1,500  insurance,  and  that  the  com- 
pany, with  characteristic  exactness,  rectified  the  error. 

C.   P.   FARNFIELD. 

Far  away  on  the  desert,  where  Arizona's  shimmering  sands  are 
tinted  by  the  sunset  to  a  lurid  hue ;  where  Yuma's  burning  plains  stretch 
far  beyond  the  horizon  ;  where  the  sullen  Colorado  rolls, — there  died  our 
friend,  alone.  No  mother's  words  of  comfort,  no  sweetheart's  soothing 
touch,  were  there ;  but  in  solitude  and  in  silence  he  passed  over  the  Dark 
River  to  the  Unknown  Land.  The  dismal  hum  of  the  wires  was  his  only 
requiem,  while  the  winds  of  the  desert  moaned  and  moaned,  as  if  for  our 
departed  friend. 

Farewell,  Farnfield !  May  the  light  of  your  generous  nature  illumine 
your  path  to  the  Great  Beyond. 


170  THE   KNAPSACK     1892 


CLINCH  THINGS! 

There 's  a  motto  a  manager  once  gave  to  me, 
A  man  full  of  brains  you  can  readily  see. 
Experience  and  knowledge  in  him  are  combined, 
A  man  of  broad  views  and  talent  of  mind, 
Successful  in  business,  ranking  high  in  this  State. 
He  said  to  me  once,  "  Put  this  thing  on  your  slate  ; 
Should  you  wish  fame  to  acquire,  success  to  attain, 
Clinch  things. 

1 '  If  in  business  transaction  a  point  should  arise 
Which  might  be  constructed  ambiguous-wise, 
And  you  may  be  enabled  to  fully  define 
The  point  at  once  clearly,  and  bring  it  in  line, 
Yield  not  to  the  impulse  and  matters  delay, 
But  define  your  point  then,  for  that  is  the  way 
To  clinch  things. 

"Should  an  agent  default,  and  you're  sent  to  the  scene, 
And  he  meets  you  with  face  all  smiling  serene, 
Let  him  know  you  are  there  for  justice  and  right, 
And  keep  him  in  hand  by  day  and  by  night, 
Till  success  you've  obtained  and  your  money 's  secure  ; 
'  Tis  the  only  true  way  the  evil  to  cure ; 
Clinch  things. 

"Should  a  loss  have  occurred,  and  you're  sent  to  adjust, 
Don't  look  on  all  claimants  with  eyes  of  distrust, 
But  keep  them  wide  open ;  with  your  ears  do  the  same  ; 
Then  if  things  are  crooked  you'll  drop  on  the  game; 
Perpetuate  testimony,  examine  the  facts, 
And  success  should  attend  every  one  of  your  acts ; 
Clinch  things. 

"  Put  not  off  till  to-morrow  what  you  should  do  to-day, 
Is  an  excellent  motto  and  well  in  its  way ; 
For  things  once  deferred  may  ere  long  disappear, 
Which  makes  it  more  urgent,  and  the  motto  is  clear ; 
Delays  are  oft  dangerous,  let  promptness  prevail, 
And  never  admit  there 's  such  word  as  fail ; 
Clinch  things." 


THE   KNAPSACK     1892  171 


OH,   WHAT   A  DIFFERENCE  IN  THE  MORNING! 

Parody  on  a  selection  from  the  comic  opera  of  Sinbad,  Sung-bad,  by 
E.  W.  Carpenter,  at  the  banquet  of  the  Fire  Underwriters'  Association  of 
the  Pacific,  at  the  California  Hotel,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 

•GV-r,     17TH  "  AT  NIGHT"  AND        T  Q^n 
JrEB.    18TH" IN  THE  MORNING"   1092. 

The  day  being  done,  what  queer  changes  appear 

At  night,  at  night ! 
We  seem  to  inhabit  a  different  sphere 

At  night,  at  night ! 

The  manager  sweetly  takes  guests  to  a  show, 
To  a  party  with  "wifey"  will  placidly  go, 
Or  mayhap  to  church,  humbly  bowing  quite  low, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

But  oh,  what  a  difference  in  the  morning! 
Vexations  overwhelm  him  at  the  dawning. 
They  come  by  mail  and  wire, 
His  temper  is  on  fire, 
He's  not  a  "B-class"  angel  in  the  morning. 

In  "  Bluelands  "  a  rogue  "  cooks  "  his  books  to  a  turn, 

At  night,  at  night ! 
Is  caught  setting  fire  to  the  store  he  would  burn, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

The  judge  to  the  jury  makes  guilt  very  clear, 
And  then  locks  them  up  until  dawn  shall  appear ; 
Adjusters  feel  certain  of  verdict  severe, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

But  oh,  what  a  difference  in  the  morning ! 
Then  comes  acquittal  with  the  dawning. 
"Corporations  without  soul 
Will  always  hunt  some  hole 
To  crawl  through,"  say  the  jury  in  the  morning! 

The  homeward  bound  special  strikes  Lathrop  so  drear, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

Returning  to  '  Frisco,  his  last  stop  is  here, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

His  wife  and  his  babies  to-morrow  he'll  see, 

And  stay  long  at  home  on  some  sort  of  a  plea, 


THE   KNAPSACK     1892 


He 's  dreaming  he  feels  the  cool  breeze  of  the  sea, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

But  oh,  what  a  difference  in  the  morning ! 
He 's  paralyzed  by  lightning  at  the  dawning. 
The  head  office  briefly  wire  : 
"  Another  general  fire. 
Start  promptly  for  Miles  City  in  the  morning! " 

Now  Armstrong  "selected"  a  company  rare, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

Who  "inspected"  Delmonico's  choice  bill  of  fare, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

"He'd  ' protected'  himself  by  insurance  discreet." 
Such  news  to  the  guests  was  a  morsel  most  sweet, 
To  be  rid  of  the  "trio"  seemed  to  ev'ry  one  meet  (meat), 

At  night,  at  night ! 

But  oh,  what  a  difference  in  the  morning! 
That  "  trio  "  woke  up  crowing  at  the  dawning. 
With  their  systems  purged  of  all, 
Save  their  charters  and  their  "gall," 
They  resumed  the  same  old  "lay"  again  next  morning! 

Each  year  at  this  dinner  we're  jolliest  friends, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

We  resolve  to  be  good,  for  the  past  make  amends, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

We  praise  beyond  measure  the  business  we're  in, 
Pledging  honor  and  friendship  '  mid  wineglasses '  din, 
Extolling  our  calling  so  guiltless  of  sin, 

At  night,  at  night ! 

But  oh,  what  a  difference  in  the  morning! 
Love  and  faith  seem  blinded  by  the  dawning. 
With  tricks  resembling  lies, 
And  crimes  of  greater  size, 
We  charge  each  "other  fellow"  in  the  morning. 

CALLING  on  a  good  friend  at  the  office  where  he  holds  a  responsible 
yet  modest  position,  I  found  his  name  posted  on  his  desk  with  the  letters 
"G.  A."  added.  "Why,  Charlie,"  said  I,  "are  you  a  general  agent?" 
In  answer  he  led  me  to  the  front,  where  an  electric  indicator  with  a  dozen 
buttons  gave  the  names  of  various  clerks.  Said  he,  "the  buttons  gave 
out,  so  when  I  am  wanted  they  sound  a  general  alarm,  '  G.  A.,'  see?" 


THE    KNAPSACK     1892 


THE  BOGIE  MAN. 

Come  all  ye  little  managers  and  listen  unto  me, 
A  creature  somewhat  strange  has  come  a  sailing  o'er  the  sea ; 
One  like  him  you  have  seldom  seen  since  first  your  lives  began  ; 
No  wonder  when  you  gaze  on  him  you  call  him  "  Bogie  Man." 

Hush,  hush,  hush ! 

Here  comes  the  Bogie  Man ; 

You  'd  best  lie  low, 

You  stand  no  show 

Before  the  Bogie  Man. 

He  has  the  power  to  crush  you  all  and  make  you  quake  with  fear ; 
He  has  the  calm  and  steady  stare  that  makes  you  feel  so  queer ; 
He  has  taken  in  Macdonald,  James  and  Carpenter  as  well, 
And  has  some  others  on  the  slate  the  British  ranks  to  swell. 

Hush,  hush,  hush ! 

Here  comes  the  Bogie  Man ; 

You  '11  have  no  show, 

You  'd  better  go, 

He  '11  bounce  you  if  he  can. 

He  has  some  blooded  backers  who  give  the  business  tone, 
And  when  he  plays  at  any  game  the  counters  are  his  own ; 
He  represents  more  sterling  wealth  than  any  others  can ; 
No  wonder  that  you  all  bow  down  before  the  Bogie  Man. 

Hush,  hush,  hush! 
Here  comes  the  Bogie  Man  ; 
Your  cake 's  all  dough, 
You  're  doomed  to  woe, 
He'll  catch  you  if  he  can. 

The  locals  tremble  when  he  speaks,  and  wither  'neath  his  frown, 
While  the  clerks  all  start  side  whiskers  to  help  the  British  Crown ; 
And  no  one  has  sufficient  nerve  to  even  mutter  ' '  Damn ! 
You  cannot  crush  my  spirit  with  a  foreign  Bogie  Man." 

Hush,  hush,  hush! 

Here  comes  the  Bogie  Man  ; 

You  'd  better  run, 

He'll  spoil  your  fun, 

And  cinch  you  if  he  can. 


174  THE   KNAPSACK     1892 


AT  THE  time  of  The  Dalles  fire  last  September  our  office  was  on  the 
qui  vive  for  definite  information  regarding  the  boundary  of  the  burned 
district.  The  newspapers  (as  sometimes  happens)  gave  the  names  of  all 
the  sufferers,  with  a  full  account  of  "lurid  flames"  and  "forked 
tongues,"  but  was  silent  on  the  subject  of  boundary  lines.  The  local 
agent,  with  wisdom  acquired  from  books,  rushed  to  the  telegraph  office 
and  was  delivered  of  a  message  something  like  this,  "Town  burned 
down;  send  adjuster  at  once."  Hours  went  by,  but  no  one  knew  the 
limit  of  the  fire;  so  we  decided  to  wire  the  local  agent  as  follows: 
"Please  give  numbers  of  blocks  burned."  With  something  of  pride  we 
answered  the  questions  of  our  neighbors  by  saying  we  had  sent  for  full 
information,  and  would  soon  be  able  to  impart  definite  particulars.  The 
reply  message  came ;  we  could  hardly  wait  to  tear  it  open  ;  it  read  as  fol- 
lows :  "Blocks  to  the  number  of  eighteen  burned." 


TEN  LITTLE  SPECIALS. 

Ten  little  specials,  all  in  a  line, 

One  cut  a  rate  and  then  there  were  nine. 

Nine  little  specials  hunting  a  rebate, 

One  of  'em  found  it  and  then  there  were  eight. 

Eight  little  specials,  hardly  fit  for  Heaven, 
One  got  full  and  then  there  were  seven. 

Seven  little  specials  up  to  all  the  tricks, 
One  became  expensive  and  then  there  six. 

Six  little  specials,  all  of  them  alive, 

One  "sassed"  the  manager  and  then  there  were  five. 

Five  little  specials  hoping  to  get  more, 

One  broke  the  compact  and  then  there  were  four. 

Four  little  specials  from  office  work  quite  free, 
One  asked  for  a  raise  and  then  there  were  three. 

Three  little  specials,  and  all  rather  new, 
One  played  poker  and  then  there  were  two. 

Two  little  specials  eager  for  fun, 

One  paid  a  total  loss  and  then  there  was  one. 

One  little  special  whose  work  was  well  done, 
He  became  manager  and  then  there  was  none. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1892  775 


AN  ACTIVE  agent  in  the  San  Joaquin  valley  having  had  a  number  of 
policies  returned  to  his  company  by  an  agent  of  a  competing  company  in 
a  German  colony,  visited  the  locality  to  learn  the  cause.  The  cause  was 
a  German  agent.  The  active  agent  called  on  his  customers  and  found 
them  in  possession  of  the  policies  of  an  aggressive,  well-managed  com- 
pany, whose  policies  are  adorned  with  the  head  of  a  celebrated  but  very 
ugly  "chieftain."  This  gave  a  cue  to  the  active  agent  to  work  on,  and 
taking  a  recent  importation  from  Europe  aside  said  to  him,  pointing  to 
the  picture,  "  That  is  the  photograph  of  the  president  of  that  company. 
How  would  you  like  to  have  him  settle  your  loss?"  The  reply  was, 
"  Mein  Gott,  I  no  vants  to  settle  mit  dat  kind  of  a  mans,"  and  immedi- 
ately gave  up  that  policy  and  took  the  active  agent's  policy.  Others  did 
likewise,  and  in  a  short  time  a  truce  was  had  and  an  agreement  made  be- 
tween the  agents  to  respect  each  other's  contracts. 


IT  WAS  a  sight  to  see  the  Monitor  man  eat  crow  pie.  After  sitting 
on  the  fence  and  holding  up  the  pie  labeled,  "best  pigeon  pie,"  and  after 
being  sassy  to  the  little  boys  who  had  no  pie  at  all,  suddenly  he  realized 
he  had  to  eat  it;  he  never  changed  a  muscle,  but  gulped  it  down.  This 
was  when  Lowden  got  back  at  him  for  his  criticism  of  the  paper  on 
"  Manufacturers'  Profits,"  read  by  the  President  at  our  last  annual  meet- 
ing. 

The  ruling  passion  is  strong  in  death  ;  and  the  Monitor  man  raised 
his  hat  to  Lowden,  and  said,  "We  have  always  advocated  your  theory; 
in  fact,  the  senior  editor  of  this  paper  converted  George  Washington's 
grandfather  to  the  same  thing." 


THE  SPECIAL'S  WAIL. 

An  active  special  who  had  been  engaged  in  various  lines  of  work  be- 
fore joining  the  Grip  Brigade  says  that  when  a  young  man  he  wanted  to 
be  a  fireman  on  a  railroad  locomotive,  as  he  had  observed  that  when  the 
train  came  in  or  went  out  the  fireman  did  nothing  but  "ring  the  bell." 
He  got  the  position,  but  his  experience  was  that  he  had  to  get  down  out 
of  sight  in  front  of  the  furnace  and  shovel  coal  between  stations.  He 
tired  of  this  position,  and  became  a  local  agent.  Here  again  he  noticed 
that  the  special  agent  seemed  to  do  nothing  but  "  ring  the  bell"  when  in 
town,  and  his  ambition  was  only  satisfied  when  he  secured  a  place  as 
special;  but  here  again  he  found  that  in  the  work  of  a  successful 
special  there  is  more  coal-shoveling  than  bell-ringing. 


176  THE   KNAPSACK      1892 


A  SUPERANNUATED  old  adjuster,  who  smiles  when  he  is  called  the 
"old  man,"  says,  "When  I  am  assigned  a  room  at  a  hotel  I  look  at  the 
register  to  see  if  my  room  was  occupied  by  a  lady  guest  the  night  before." 

"Then  if  it  was,  you  of  course  take  it,"  chimes  in  a  young  special. 

"On  the  contrary,  no." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  I  don't  like  to  be  taken  for  the  man  who  is  always  '  a  day 
after  the  fair,'  "  says  Graybeard,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  left  optic. 

(Memorandum  by  the  editor.)  "Not  a  sound  was  heard,  nor  a  fun- 
eral note,  as  his  corse  to  the  ramparts  we  hurried." 

TELL  me,  ye  winged  winds,  that  daily 

Round  me  roar, 

Is  there  a  spot  where  adjusters  are  no  more  ? 
Some  pleasant,  fire-proof  place, 

From  oxygen  quite  free  ; 
Where  flames  are  never  known 

And  smoke  they  never  see  ? 

The  wild  winds  dwindled  to  a  whisper  low 

And  sighed  their  answer  as  they  murmured, — "  Yes  ! 

But  '  tis  over  the  river, 

In  the  mansions  of  the  blest, 
Where  the  Wetzlars  cease  from  troubling, 

And  the  Treanors  are  at  rest." 

DOWN  in  a  certain  southern  field  a  peculiar  class  of  risks  familiar  to 
you  all  are  known  as  "female  boarding-houses,"  and  take  twice  the  rate 
of  ordinary  dwellings.  I  was  walking  about  town  examining  our  busi- 
ness with  the  agent,  when  we  passed  a  comfortable  two-story  dwelling. 
Upon  making  inquiry  why  said  dwelling  was  not  covered  by  a  policy  in 
my  company,  the  agent  replied  : 

"The  fact  is  that  dwelling  belongs  to  my  widowed  sister,  and  as  she 
had  more  room  than  she  wanted  she  took  our  two  schoolmarms  to 
board.  You  see  the  rate  book  says  that  female  boarding-houses  shall 
take  double  the  dwelling  rate;  and  my  sister  just  couldn't  stand  it." 

ANOTHER  good  fellow  with  the  world  all  before  him,  after  studying 
his  book  of  instructions,  wrote  the  following  query:  "Do  I  deduct  my 
commission  from  the  rate  prescribed  in  the  rate  book,  or  do  I  charge  it 
extra  to  the  party  insuring?"  And  yet  almost  all  the  officers  of  com- 
panies commenced  life  as  a  local  agent. 


7 'HE    KNAPSACK      1892  777 


SOME  one  has  invented  a  smoke  preventive.  Will  some  one  invent 
"  smoke-damage  "  preventive,  and  apply  it  to  sundry  stocks  of  drygoods, 
etc.? 


THE  SPECIAL  AND   HIS  GRIP. 

Through  the  seasons,  in  all  weather, 

In  the  valley's  scorching  heat, 
In  the  mountains,  cold  storms  braving, 

In  the  driving  snow  and  sleet ; 
Where  the  streams  in  spring  are  booming, 

Where  in  fall  Jack  Frost  may  nip, 
Even  on  the  ocean  raging, 

Goes  the  special  and  his  grip. 

Perhaps  'tis  thought  a  risk  is  stolen, 

Perhaps  a  balance  is  overdue, 
Or,  in  the  push  for  business, 

One  must  seek  some  pastures  new. 
Now  a  loss  must  needs  be  settled, 

All  which  need  a  hurried  trip, 
But  to  these  and  many  others 

Goes  the  special  and  his  grip. 

In  the  cars  and  on  the  stage-coach, 

Though  train  may  wreck  and  horse  go  lame, 
When  others  halt  and  cry  peccavi, 

The  special  gets  there  just  the  same. 
Through  stormy  day  and  stormy  night, 

Midst  pelting  rain  when  all  things  drip. 
Without  his  sleep,  still  pushing  onward, 

Goes  the  special  and  his  grip. 

Wherever  there 's  a  human  dwelling, 
No  matter  how  remote  'twould  seem, 

The  special  in  his  travels  makes  it, 
On  wheels  or  runners,  or  by  steam. 

'  Long  trails  on  horseback  and  on  foot 
When  death  would  meet  him  should  he  slip, 

Where  other  dangers  lurk  about  him, 
Goes  the  special  and  his  grip. 


i?8  THE   KNAPSACK     1892 


Where'er  he  goes  his  friends  they  greet  him, 

And  when  he  leaves  he's  bade  God  speed ; 
When  he  gets  home  he 's  welcomed  warmly ; 

Then  here's  his  health,  long  life  indeed. 
And  as  he  travels  all  routes  known, 

With  cheer  and  smile  upon  his  lip, 
Perhaps  upon  the  road  to  glory 

May  go  the  special — and  his  grip. 

ASHTON. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1893  779 


EDITORIAL,    1893.  GEO.   F.   GRANT. 


EDITORIAL. 

ITS  there  a  limit  to  man's  desire?  If  so,  how  are  we  to  know  where 
11  it  is  found.  The  old  farmer  who  said,  "My  wants  are  few;  all  I 
ask  is  the  land  adjoining  my  farm,"  unconsciously  spoke  the  senti- 
ment of  ambitious  mankind.  Insurance  men  do  not  differ  from  other 
wide-awake,  active  business  men ;  all  they  want  is  to  lead  in  their  pro- 
fession, and  they  are  actuated  by  two  principal  motives  ;  the  first,  to  win 
the  enconiums  of  their  directory;  the  second,  to  share  in  the  profits  of  the 
corporation,  and  this  is  what  makes  all  the  trouble  with  the  Pacific 
Insurance  Union  and  kindred  associations. 

At  the  start,  with  every  toe  on  the  line,  the  compact  manager  has  an 
easy  time ;  the  question  of  rates  is  quite  enough  for  his  serious  considera- 
tion, the  discipline  which  becomes  necessary  because  of  the  infraction  of 
rules  is  easily  applied  because  the  infringement  is  from  misunderstanding 
only,  but  with  the  first  published  statement  of  figures,  showing  the  net 
results  of  various  offices,  doubt  and  distrust  disturb  the  minds  of  some 
members;  these  figures  show  that  premiums  are  not  equally  distributed. 

Ambition  to  lead  has  met  with  a  rude  shock,  and  in  place  of  reflect- 
ing that  leaders  are  necessarily  few,  suspicion  is  nursed  that  all  is  not 
right;  failure  to  meet  expectations  is  traced  to  seeming  abuse  of  rules. 
If  ability  were  all  on  a  line,  or  if  energy  was  the  same  in  each  case ;  if 
brains  were  equally  distributed  or  opportunities  evenly  balanced,  this  of 
course  would  not  be  so,  and  this  is  what  makes  all  the  trouble  with  the 
members.  A  thinking  man  devises  a  plan  whereby  some  rule  is  changed 
in  a  slight  degree  by  some  innocent  looking  wording  accompanied  by  an 
explanatory  diagram,  simple  and  clear,  but  it  is  found  after  a  time  that 
the  thinking  man  referred  to  has  an  advantage  over  his  fellows  because 
of  some  difference  in  the  management  of  his  particular  office,  and  this  is 
what  makes  trouble  for  companies.  These  troubles  grow  and  magnify, 
because  it  is  not  "good  form"  to  repeal  a  rule  and  go  back  to  the  old 
condition  of  things ;  instead,  amendments  are  piled  on  amendments, 
ingenuity  of  a  superior  order  is  brought  into  play  whereby  the  latest  rules 
can  be  made  to  serve  the  individual,  irrespective  of  the  effect  on  the  as- 
sociation as  a  body;  committees  composed  of  good  members  wrestle 
with  the  problems  that  arise,  and  the  tangled  web  is  loosened  in  some 


THE   KNAPSACK      1893 


places  and  tied  into  knots  at  others ;  finally,  the  end  of  the  skein  is  lost 
in  the  snarl,  and  as  time  goes  on  is  forgotten  altogether. 

In  spite  of  all  this  the  compact  manager,  if  he  has  tact  and  discre- 
tion, succeeds  fairly  well  in  maintaining  order ;  moral  suasion  is  as  much 
a  part  of  his  diplomacy  as  the  rules  of  his  office,  but  with  moral  suasion 
he  is  confronted  with  an  entirely  new  order  of  culprit — the  crank — and 
now  he  must  beg  where  once  he  threatened.  Who  shall  say  that  the 
observing  member,  thinking  to  obtain  from  the  manager  what  the  rules 
deny,  suddenly  resolves  to  be  a  crank  himself  and  so  confusion  becomes 
worse  confounded  and  hints  of  dissolution  are  in  the  air.  Members  put 
their  business  houses  in  order  for  the  break ;  the  press  gives  the  daily 
news  and  colors  the  insurance  situation  with  enough  spice  to  make  it 
good  reading ;  some  people  believe  all  they  see  in  print,  and  so  comes  a 
nightmare  of  suspense. 

Now  what  is  to  be  done?  Let  us  reflect.  In  the  beginning  men 
came  together  and  formed  this  Compact  Association  for  self  protection. 
With  fear  in  their  hearts  and  with  pale  faces  they  told  each  other  we 
have  carried  our  warfare  so  far  that  ruin  seems  inevitable ;  without  mutual 
concessions  and  mutual  obligations  we  think  we  are  lost.  The 
concessions  were  made  and  the  obligations  taken ;  the  association  has 
hung  together,  say  for  ten  years.  Members  of  the  Fire  Underwriters' 
Association  of  the  Pacific,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  This  is  your 
affair ;  the  compact  question  is  your  business  ;  your  influence,  if  properly 
directed,  can  bring  order  out  of  chaos.  It  is  your  duty  to  recommend 
going  back  to  the  starting  point  with  each  toe  once  more  on  the  line. 


WHEN  I  was  a  young  special  I  was  afraid  as  death  of  the  "old  man." 
Nothing  I  did  was  just  right,  and  it  was  long  years  after  I  had  left  his 
office  before  I  knew  how  kindly  he  used  to  speak  of  me  when  I  could  not 
hear  him.  Now  that  /am  an  "old  man,"  I  know  that  some  youngsters 
must  get  information  injected  under  the  skin  or  they  don't  get  it ;  but  the 
particular  story  I  started  to  give  the  Knapsack  runs  like  this  :  My  "old 
man  "  sent  me  to  San  Diego  to  adjust  a  loss,  kindly  saying  as  a  parting 
shot  that  he  expected  me  to  make  a  mess  of  it.  When  I  reached  the 
ground  I  found  the  claimant  stricken  with  apoplexy.  Here  was  a 
complication,  and  I  was  at  my  wits'  end.  Reluctantly  I  went  to  the 
telegraph  office  and  sent  this  message : 

"  Claimant  dead.     What  is  to  be  done  next?  " 

Back  came  the  answer, 

"Bury  him." 


THE   KNAPSACK      i893  181 


A  KICK. 

THE  following  letter  was  written  by  a  Montana  agent  with  whom  I  have 
a  delightful  personal  acquaintance.  He  commenced  his  career  in  the 
Southern  States,  and  after  being  taken  prisoner  by  the  Union  side 
absolutely  refused  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance.  Instead,  he  came  West 
and  for  years  personally  conducted  the  taking  of  furs  and  hides  from  the 
wild  animals  of  Montana,  incidentally,  making  "good  Indians,"  as 
occasion  required.  By  nature  he  has  the  affectionate  disposition  of  a 
woman.  His  generosity  is  unbounded,  but  he  will  fight  at  the  drop  of 
the  hat  if  he  thinks  an  offense  is  intended.  How  he  came  to  engage  in 
the  insurance  business  I  now  forget,  but  as  one  who  follows  instructions 
he  cannot  be  improved  on  from  the  office  standpoint : 

"SURVEYOR  P.  I.  U. 

" Esteemed  Sir: — Yours  of  the  gth  instant  at  hand.  In  response 
thereto,  with  reference  to  your  suggestion  that  a  correction  should  be 

made  in  the  rating  of  '  D.  R.' ,  would  say  that  you  are  evidently 

bilious  and  need  the  advice  of  a  physician. 

"As  you  have  suggested  no  particular  course  for  me  to  pursue  in 
making  the  correction  desired,  I  would  feel  obliged  if  you  would  wire 
me  just  what  is  the  matter  with  the  one  adopted  by  me. 

"I  feel  assured  that  any  one,  not  entirely  blind,  or  a  damned  fool, 
can  perceive  by  a  close  examination  of  accompanying  diagram  that  the 
rate  determined  by  your  office  has  been  maintained,  and  the  maximum 
charge  established.  If  this  has  been  done  (and  it  cannot  be  disputed), 
then,  merely  for  information's  sake,  I  would  like  to  ask  just  how  it  con- 
cerns you,  or  your  honorable  office,  if  the  charge  is  in  excess  of  that  set 
forth  in  Rate  Book  No.  '4  '  ? 

' '  It  occurs  to  me  that  I  have  simply  done  my  part  of  the  business 
correct,  and  that  (in  addition  to  a  slight  waste  of  postage  stamps)  you 
have  made  an  infernal  ass  of  yourself." 

"Now  please  oblige  me  glancing  over  the  rate  under  which  No. 

was  written:  " 

Basis  (boarding  and  lodging,  15-20 

rooms) $2  25    Is  that  enough  ? 

Cloth  lining  and  stovepipe     ...    i  75    Is    there  anything  the  matter 

with  that? 

Ex.  (mixed)  35-40  feet 35    Is  that  correct  ? 

Ex.  (mixed)  40-60  feet 40    Probably  that  will  suit  you  ? 

Ex.  Chinese  wash  200  feet  .    ...        25    Too  little,  of  course  ? 
Ex.  lumber  yard,  80  feet     ....       50    This  fixes  it. 

Total $5  50 


i82  THE  KNAPSACK     1893 


"Now  look  over  this  matter  calmly  and  thoughtfully,  and  candidly 
ask  yourself  if  you  do  not  need  a  little  rest  ?  How  would  it  do  to  take  a 
trip  to  the  Arkansas  Hot  Springs  and  boil  yourself  out  ?  You  assuredly 
need  relaxation  of  some  character,  but  monkeying  with  a  Montana 
insurance  agent  will  neither  prolong  your  life  nor  add  anything  to  your 
present  enjoyment  of  it. 

"As  for  the  *D.  R.'  I  return  it  to  you  with  the  hope  that  you  will 
extend  it  the  careful  consideration  I  am  led  to  believe  it  deserves.  You 
are  at  liberty  to  use  it,  and  I  have  no  objection  to  your  retaining  it  as  a 
souvenir  of  of  this  office,  if  such  is  your  desire.  In  any  event,  I  am  done 
with  it. 

1 '  Referring  again  to  your  desire  that  a  correction  should  be  made 
in  the  rate  of  the  risk  noted,  I  hardly  see  how  I  can  charge  any  more 
than  I  have  done.  Even  if  this  could  be  done,  a  spirit  of  fair  dealing  to 
the  assured  prevents  any  interference  on  my  part  with  the  one  presently 
established. 

"In  conclusion,  I  beg  to  observe  that  I  believe  you  are  getting 
tangled  up  into  something  that  you  have  no  concern  in.  Your  office  is 
a  great  stickler  for  rate,  and  when  its  desire  in  this  particular  is  gratified, 
it  should  let  matters  over  which  it  has  no  possible  concern,  severely 
alone. 

"If  the  charge  is  greater  than  that  established  by  your  office,  it  con- 
cerns you  not,  but  it  does  the  company  writing.  Please  remember  this 
while  being  boiled  out. 

"I  propose  to  always  charge  enough.  Maybe  sometimes  I  will  not ; 
in  such  event  you  can  fall  in,  for  it  is  a  part  of  your  duty  to  do  so,  and  I 
shall  not  feel  offended,  for  if  I  did  (judging  from  the  high-handed  man- 
ner in  which  you  have  been  running  things),  you  would  not  give  a  damn. 

"In  conclusion,  I  insist  upon  it  that  you  look  more  carefully  after 
yourself.  With  your  irascible  temper  and  delicate  constitution,  it  is  a 
question  if  you  will  be  able  to  survive  your  term  of  Surveyor  of  the 
Pacific  Insurance  Union. 

"With  sentiments  of  the  highest  consideration,  dear  sir,  permit  me 
to  subscribe  myself  your  most  obedient  servant." 

THE  fire  started  at  the  end  of  the  block  farthest  from  the  hydrant, 
the  hose  was  short,  the  agent  reported  that  the  firemen  waited  until  the 
fire  burned  within  reach  of  the  hose,  and  then  put  it  out— good  work  on 
the  part  of  the  fire  department — but  as  our  risk  had  gone  up  in  smoke  we 
were  in  no  humor  to  advocate  Book  3  for  that  town,  merely  because  the 
fire  was  put  out  when  it  reached  the  fire  department. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1893  183 

ASSIGNMENT  OF  POLICY. 

The  beauty  of  five  year  term  business  on  the  note  installment  plan 
is  beautifully  illustrated  by  the  following  letter,  which,  without  person- 
ality I  have  been  allowed  to  publish  in  the  Knapsack.  The  incident  of 
an  assignment  during  the  life  of  the  policy  adds  to  the  spice  of  the  item  : 

"September  30th,  1892. 

"I  should  like  to  have  this  insurance  policy  canceled,  as  it  would 
benefit  me  very  little  if  I  was  burned  out.  In  looking  over  the  policy 
this  evening  I  noticed  for  the  first  time  that  I  have  $500  on  grain,  and  as  a 
matter  of  fact  there  has  never  been  a  bushel  of  grain  raised  on  this  ranch. 
I  had  always  understood  that  this  was  placed  on  a  stallion,  but  even  if  it 
was  it  would  not  be  of  any  use,  as  I  sold  the  stallion  two  years  ago. 

"There  is  also  |ioo  on  a  buggy;  at  present  I  have  no  buggy,  as  it 
was  smashed  in  a  runaway  last  spring. 

"There  is  also  $200  on  furniture,  while,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  there 
never  was  |2OO  worth  of  furniture  in  this  house. 

"Of  course  all  of  these  things  were  given  in  by  the  former  owner  of 
this  place,  but  I  do  not  see  exactly  why  I  should  suffer  for  it." 


I  HAVE  been  in  the  business  a  good  many  years ;  more  than  I  some- 
times like  to  contemplate.  I  have  been  under  the  impression  all  the 
time  that  I  knew  how  to  rate  a  simple  frame  range,  but  a  newly-fledged 
agent  opened  my  eyes  the  other  day  to  a  mistake  that  I  have  long  labored 
under. 

It  was  a  picturesque  frame  range,  embellished  with  many  signs  and 
tottering  awnings,  held  up  by  posts  hacked  and  hewed  by  the  festive 
granger,  in  a  small  Rate  Book  No.  4  town  in  this  State.  The  rate  in  dis- 
pute was  on  the  end  building,  and  I  was  called  in  to  settle  the  matter. 
My  decision  was,  basis,  restaurant,  $3.25,  8  exposures  at  75c.  Total, 
19.25.  "Oh,  no,"  said  the  brand  new  agent,  with  a  withering  smile  of 
superiority  creeping  o'er  his  fair  young  face,  "you  are  wrong,  entirely 
wrong.  You  don't  have  to  charge  for  the  eight  exposures  at  all.  The 
proper  way  to  rate  the  building  is,  basis,  13.25,  4  exposures  at  75c.,  $3.00. 
Total,  $6.25.  If  you  fellows  from  the  city  would  only  take  the  trouble  to 
read  your  Rate  Book,  instead  of  thinking  you  know  it  all,  you  would  find 
on  page  31  that  you  are  only  to  charge  for  exposures  on  every  other 
building  in  the  range,  not  on  each  one ;  so  you  take  the  basis  rate,  skip 
the  first  exposure,  charge  for  No.  2,  skip  No.  3,  charge — why — wazzer 
matter?"  Well,  its  kind  of  you ;  its  rather  early,  but  still — 


i $4  THE   KNAPSACK     1893 


I  THOUGHT  I  was  going  mad  last  week  because  I  laughed  at  a  joke 
printed  in  the  Post  Magazine,  and  it  was  only  when  I  found  the  joke 
was  copied  from  an  American  paper  that  I  lost  "that  tired  feeling,"  the 
same  feeling  the  newspapers  tell  about  in  the  medical  column  of  the 
advertising  page,  which  tired  feeling  is  said  to  be  a  sure  forerunner  of 
death  in  twelve  different  forms,  provided,  you  do  not  buy  (and  pay  for) 
the  antidote  described  in  the  "ad." 

I  subscribe  and  sometimes  pay  for  various  insurance  papers.  Others 
are  thrust  upon  me  by  due  cost  of  postoffice  box  and  some  are  backsheesh, 
pure  and  simple ;  thus,  the  spice  and  essence,  the  very  zest  of  the  under- 
writer's newspaper  brain  is  mine  to  command.  I  regret  to  notice  a 
tendency  to  frivolity  in  these  papers ;  they  have  a  reserved  space  for  a 
"  funny  column,"  and  the  most  serious  subjects  are  treated  with  gags, 
tags,  and  jags  to  suit  the  mood  of  the  editor  writer,  who  would  be  funny 
if  he  could,  and  some  of  his  readers  think  he  is,  because  they  lack  the 
power  to  know.  So  this  editor  plays  the  cuttle  fish  business  with  his 
writings,  until  between  sense  and  the  other  thing  his  meaning  is  as 
opaque  as  good  bottle  glass.  Now,  the  papers  of  the  Old  World  are 
different,  because  they  are  dead  in  earnest,  as  the  expression  goes ;  they 
are  serious  in  what  they  say.  For  two  years  I  have  studied  the  difference 
until  I  have  learned  to  know  perfectly  what  they  say,  but  still  I  do  not 
yet  know  what  they  mean;  hence,  when  I  come  upon  a  bit  of  tinsel 
shining  amid  the  heap  of  Post  Magazine,  for  the  moment  I  am  alarmed, 
as  aforesaid. 


AN  ENTERPRISING  fire  chief  in  an  inland  city,  when  steam  fire 
engines  were  first  being  introduced,  log-rolled  a  resolution  through  the 
council  to  send  a  committee  of  one  of  their  members  to  the  Bay  (San 
Francisco)  to  investigate  and  report  on  the  new  fire  mas  keen.  He  came, 
he  saw,  and  he  reported,  "That  he  did  not  see  any  need  of  heating  water 
to  put  out  a  fire,"  in  his  opinion  cold  water  was  just  as  good,  and  his 
city  did  not  get  a  steamer  until  after  the  next  election. 


"YES,"  said  the  old  special,  "bursting  up  the  Pacific  Insurance 
Union  is  all  very  fine  to  talk  about,  but  seriously  it  would  be  too  much 
like  the  Chinaman's  description  of  the  toboggan  slide  that  he  had  seen  in 
Canada. 

"Said  he,  'Swishe-e-e'  (with  a  downward  sweep  of  his  hand) 
'walkee  back  three  miles.' 

"  It  would  take  us  three  years  to  get  back." 


THE    KNAPSACK     1893 


SPECIAL  AGENT  IN   1870. 

IT  T  may  seem  strange  to  you  to  talk  of  days  when  there  was  no  special 
11  agent,  but  in  1870  on  the  Coast  the  title  of  traveling  men  was 
" adjuster,"  and,  if  he  was  willing  to  demean  himself  by  soliciting 
insurance,  he  was  "no  adjuster,"  in  the  opinion  of  his  comrades. 

For  this  reason,  as  I  was  sent  out  to  solicit  business  pure  and  simple, 
and  as  a  high-sounding  title  was  absolutely  necessary,  I  was  called  a 
special  agent.  My  duty  was  to  assist  the  local  agent  to  secure  business, 
get  his  good-will,  find  out  the  nature  of  his  complaints  against  the  office, 
if  he  had  any,  and  visit  him  as  often  as  I  could  make  the  circuit. 

In  rough-and-ready  times,  among  rough-and-ready  people,  before 
the  railroad  was  graded,  there  was  no  difficulty  at  all  in  carrying  out 
instructions  and  making  a  good  record  ;  it  seems  like  a  golden  dream  to 
look  back  upon ;  but  there  was  one  agent  who  came  quite  near  knocking 
me  out  in  the  very  first  round,  so  to  speak.  He  was  from  the  West — 
that  is,  the  west  he  came  from  was  a  wilderness  where  log-houses  were  a 
luxury,  blue  jeans  too  swell  for  anything,  and  the  frying  pan  about  the 
only  cooking  utensil  in  use. 

He  got  religion,  chills  and  fever,  and  learned  to  chew  tobacco  at  an 
early  age,  and  all  of  these  habits  stayed  right  with  him  until  he  grew  up» 
consequently  he  carried  his  liver  in  his  eye,  so  to  speak,  and,  as  he  was 
a  money  getter  of  the  Quaker  school,  he  found  a  passage  of  Scripture 
with  authority  for  every-  sharp  transaction,  which  enabled  him  to  sleep 
peacefully  after  saying  his  "Now  I  lay  me,"  while  the  poor  creature  who 
had  the  small  end  of  the  trade  walked  the  floor  all  night.  When  I  first 
saw  him  I  thought  he  was  an  old  man,  because  his  hair  and  beard  were 
grizzly  gray.  This  hair  was  long,  shaggy  and  thick,  while  his  beard  was 
of  the  patriarch  cut,  and  the  level-headed  fellow  knew  full  well  the  value 
of  this  appearance,  just  the  same  as  the  patent-medicine  man  who  adver- 
tises cuts  of  benevolent-looking  old  fakirs  to  make  his  drugs  go  off. 
When  I  first  saw  him  he  was  at  the  end  of  a  long  room  which  had  once 
been  a  general  merchandise  store,  and  there  was  still  a  remnant  of  a 
stock  stuck  about  on  a  few  shelves.  In  a  corner,  between  a  red-hot 
stove  on  one  side  and  a  small  iron  safe  on  the  other,  he  sat,  his  chair 
tilted  back  against  the  wall,  while  his  long,  thin  legs  twined  about  each 
other  so  that  his  feet  hung  loose  and  pointed  in  unnatural  directions,  as 
if  disjointed  at  the  ankle.  Around  his  form  and  within  a  radius  of  four 
feet  was  evidence  of  a  life-long  practice  with  tobacco  juice;  he  seemed  to 
think  the  whole  world  his  cuspidor. 

As  I  advanced  towards  him,  his  eyes  followed  me,  but  in  no  other 
way  did  he  acknowledge  my  presence.  In  answer  to  my  questions  he 


186  THE    KNAPSACK     1893 

replied  yes  and  no,  until  I  mentally  compared  him  to  an  unwilling  wit- 
ness in  a  criminal  case. 

"  Come,  come,"  I  said  to  myself,  "this  won't  do ;  we  must  wake  the 
old  man  up."  So  I  talked  all  the  topics  of  the  times,  amusements, 
politics,  religion,  the  Indian  question,  slavery,  woman's  rights.  I  was 
getting  awfully  dry  and  was  on  the  point  of  asking  him  to  join  me,  when 
it  occurred  to  me  to  first  discuss  the  woman's  crusade  against  saloons. 
Presto,  change— there  I  had  him — his  feet  became  untangled,  he  sat  erect 
in  his  chair,  his  eyes  blazed,  his  manner  was  dignified,  his  voice  pleasant 
to  the  ear,  and  his  flow  of  talk  simply  surprising.  I  kept  my  mouth  shut, 
listened  carefully,  and  helped  myself  from  the  water  jug;  I  was  not 
edified,  but  I  was  rested.  By  and  by  I  got  the  object  of  my  visit  well 
into  him.  He  did  not  believe  in  special  agents;  did  not  want  either  my 
advice  or  assistance  and  asked  me  to  leave  town  at  once. 

Here  was  a  state  of  things ;  almost  the  first  agent  I  had  met  trying 
to  prove  that  I  was  a  mistake. 

As  fate  would  have  it,  at  that  moment,  entered,  far  away  at  the  front 
door,  another  old  skin-flint,  a  rival  tomato-can  banker,  so  to  speak. 
With  derision  in  his  tone,  my  agent  said,  "Here  comes  old  Grimes;  I 
have  tried  to  insure  his  dwelling  for  a  long  time.  Perhaps  you  can 
secure  the  risk."  "All  right,"  I  answered,  "introduce  me." 

I  do  not  know  how  it  came  about,  but  that  man  Grimes  not  only 
signed  his  application  there  and  then,  but  he  pulled  out  his  old  leather 
purse  and  paid  the  premium  on  the  spot.  My  agent  was  struck  with 
astonishment  (no  doubt  of  that).  He  looked  from  the  receding  form  of 
old  Grimes  to  me,  and  his  mouth  was  open  wide  from  astonishment  at 
Mr.  Grimes'  submission.  Finally,  he  said,  with  an  awkward  attempt  at  a 
smile,  "do  you  like  soda  water?"  "  Yes  "  I  replied;  so  we  went  to  the 
drug  store  and  drank  the  doubtful  compound  at  that  unseasonable  time 
of  year.  A  bond  was  thus  established  between  us  which  only  strength- 
ened as  time  went  by. 


WHEN  HENRY  MARTIN  was  married  he  had  just  been  appointed 
local  agent  for  an  insurance  company,  and  his  sweet  little  wife  took  as 
much  interest  in  that  local  agency  as  Henry  himself.  She  used  to  go 
down  to  the  office  and  write  up  the  register  in  a  neat  little  English  hand 
that  made  your  head  ache  to  read  it,  and  many  a  risk  came  in  on  account 
of  her  bright  eyes  and  rosy  cheeks.  One  day  she  said,  "Why,  Henry,  I  do 
believe  you  have  been  drinking.  I  can  tell  it  on  your  breath."  "Of 
course  I  have,"  said  Henry,  "had  to  do  it ;  have  to  sample  everything  I 


THE   KNAPSACK     1893  187 


insure,  you  know ;  rule  of  the  company ;  must  try  the  goods  to  see  if 
they  are  insurable."  And  so  it  went  on.  Henry  was  not  much  of  a 
drinker,  but  first  and  last  he  managed  to  sample  a  number  of  risks. 
When  he  insured  the  drug  store  his  wife  asked  innocently,  "if  he  had  to 
test  the  medicines."  "Certainly,"  said  Henry,  "every  one  of  them,  but 
not  all  at  once,"  he  hastened  to  add.  One  night  he  came  late  to  dinner, 
and  the  chops  were  done  to  death,  and  the  little  wife  just  a  trifle  vexed, 
but  her  brow  soon  became  free  from  wrinkles  when  she  heard  that  Henry 
had  been  to  inspect  a  risk. 

"But  what  risk  is  it,"  she  asked.  "The  female  seminary,"  he 
replied.  Her  face  was  very  much  troubled,  indeed,  and  she  said 
severely,  "Henry  Martin,  does  that  horrid  rule  apply  to  this  risk?" 


ABOU   BILL  SEXTON. 

Abou  Bill  Sexton  (free  from  all  rebates) 

Awoke  one  night,  from  a  deep  dream  of  rates, 

And  saw  within  the  moonlight  in  his  room, 

One  of  imperial  stature  and  full  bloom, 

Writing  in  a  register  of  gold. 

A  Denver  trip  had  made  Bill  Sexton  bold, 

And  to  the  presence  in  the  room  he  said, 

"What  writest  thou?"    The  vision  raised  its  head, 

And  coldly  answered,  "  As  a  test, 

I  write  the  names  of  those  whom  agents  like  the  best." 

"  And  is  mine  one? "  said  William.     "Nay,  not  so," 

Replied  the  vision.    William  spoke  more  low, 

And  murmured,  "Then  write  me,  I  insist, 

As  having  no  prohibited  list." 

The  spirit  wrote  and  vanished.    The  next  night 

It  came  again  with  a  great  wakening  light, 

And  showed  the  names  of  those  by  agents  blessed, 

And,  lo !  Bill  Sexton's  name  led  all  the  rest ! 


THE  P.  I.  U.  returned  a  daily  report  for  correction,  agent  having 
failed  to  charge  for  stovepipe. 

Agent  replied:  "Risk  burned;  stovepipe  removed;  my  rating 
correct." 


i88  THE   KNAPSACK     1893 


FIELD    NOTES. 

Jf^HE  colonel  once  had  an  experience  which  he  could  narrate  more 
Jl  fully  and  with  more  of  interesting  detail  than  I  can  hope  to  do. 
But  his  modesty  has  thus  far  prevented  the  Knapsack  from  secur- 
ing the  story. 

Some  years  ago  he  planted  agencies  in  Arizona,  and  in  one  town,  as 
there  was  no  published  map,  he  commenced  bright  and  early  in  the  day, 
while  the  coolness  was  still  in  the  air,  to  make  a  diagram  of  the  business 
blocks.  We  all  know  the  curiosity  of  village  folks  at  such  a  time ;  they 
are  consumed  with  a  desire  to  know  what  the  strange  man  is  doing  with 
tape  line,  note  book  and  calculations.  Generally,  children  are  sent  to 
interview  the  man  and  find  out  his  business.  In  this  instance,  the 
colonel,  who  is  a  natural  artist,  made  a  few  sketches  of  the  youngsters, 
which  he  showed  to  them  and  at  which  they  grinned  approval.  It  was 
well  along  in  the  afternoon  that  the  final  field  notes  were  taken,  and  with 
a  sigh  of  satisfaction  the  colonel  shut  his  book  and  walked  into  a  place  of 
refreshment  for  a  lemonade.  After  his  pleasant  drink  he  was  about  to 
leave  the  place,  when  a  group  of  men  dressed  in  the  picturesque  Arizona 
fashion,  that  is,  half  miner,  half  cowboy,  stood  in  his  way.  One  of  them, 
more  impetuous  than  the  rest,  said  abruptly:  "What  are  you  doing 
here,  anyway?"  but  the  least  demonstrative  touched  the  colonel  on  the 
arm,  and  whispering,  "a  word  with  you,  sir,"  he  lead  him  aside,  and 
speaking  quietly  but  with  great  earnestness  asked:  "What  is  your 
business  in  this  town?"  At  this  the  colonel,  who  had  somewhat 
recovered  from  the  first  rude  encounter,  flushed  and  replied  with  a  tinge 
of  sarcasm  in  his  tone:  "Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  inform  me  what 
that  can  matter  to  you."  "Certainly,"  was  the  answer,  "but  as  time  is 
short  and  my  friends  are  impatient,  it  might  be  as  well  for  you  to  keep  a 
civil  tongue  in  your  head."  There  was  suppressed  force  in  the  man's 
tone,  and  the  colonel  looked  at  him  fixedly  as  he  asked :  "What  do  you 
want  to  know?" 

"Who  sent  you  here ? " 

"The  Liverpool  and  London  and  Globe  Insurance  Company." 

"What  for?" 

"To  appoint  an  agent." 

"What  have  you  written  in  that  book ? " 

"  I  have  made  a  diagram  of  this  town." 

"What  for?" 

"So  that  the  local  agent  can  make  rates  understandingly." 

"  Are  you  deceiving  me?" 

"  Not  at  all,  here  is  my  card." 


THE   KNAPSACK      1893  189 


At  this  the  questioner  waved  his  hand,  and  said:  "It  is  all  right, 
boys."  The  boys  took  their  hands  off  their  pistols,  and  went  out.  The 
colonel  heard  them  talking  reassuringly  outside,  and  for  the  first  time 
noticed  a  crowd  about  the  door  of  the  saloon  ;  turning  to  his  questioner 
he  asked  for  an  explanation.  "Well,"  said  the  man,  "it  is  this  way: 
Some  years  ago,  where  this  townsite  stands,  was  a  mining  claim — placer 
diggings— but  they  didn't  pan  out  big,  and  most  people  have  forgotten 
it.  Right  lately  there  has  been  a  story  that  the  fellow  who  used  to  work 
the  claim  was  going  to  jump  on  the  improvements  of  the  town,  claiming 
them  as  his  property.  So  when  the  boys  saw  a  city  chap  going  around 
taking  notes,  they  put  it  up  that  he  was  here  appraising  the  value  of  the 
property  ;  they  called  a  meeting.  Some  was  for  shooting  the  son-of-a- 
gun  where  he  stood ;  some  was  for  hanging  him  after  dark,  and  some  was 
for  trying  him  in  open  meeting.  We  are  a  peaceful,  law-abiding  crowd, 
and  we  have  never  had  a  hanging  here  yet,  so  it  was  decided  that  the 
sheriff — that's  me — and  his  deputies — them  that  just  left  us — should 
interview  the  stranger,  just  to  give  him  a  chance  for  his  life,  for  mistakes 
is  sometimes  made,  you  know." 

The  colonel  wiped  his  brow.  "Yes,  I  know,"  he  said.  "Well, 
so-long,"  said  the  sheriff,  "no  harm  done,  but  I  say,  Mr.  Kinne,  you 
take  a  fool's  advice  and  while  you  stay  in  Arizona  don't  you  be  too  quick 
with  your  back  talk.  I  know  a  lot  of  California  people ;  got  a  sister 
living  at  San  Jose.  I  like  them  and  they  are  the  right  sort,  but  they 
can't  talk  too  quick  for  an  Arizona  peace  party  when  it  is  after  informa- 
tion. 

"  I  know  this  town  pretty  well.  The  boys  will  all  get  on  a  'tear' 
to-night  to  even  up  on  the  way  you  fooled  them,  so  if  you  take  the  stage 
when  it  comes  along  it  will  put  a  stop  to  any  funny  business  so  far  as 
you  are  concerned." 

The  colonel  decided  to  take  the  stage. 


DREADFUL   EFFECT  OF  THE   CREDIT   RULE. 

GENTLEMEN  : — I  received  your  note.  I  am  very  sorry  I  cannot  send 
you  the  money,  because  I  have  not  got  it,  and  cannot  raise  it.  I  am  an 
old  man,  and  living  alone.  I  am  troubled  with  the  rheumatics  in  my 

legs,  I  can  hardly  walk,  and  your  agent,  Mr. has  decieved  me, 

he  told  me  if  I  could  not  pay  it  the  insurance  would  run  out  and  that 
would  be  all  about  it,  and  I  cannot  pay  it  if  I  would  ever  so  much.  My 
little  place  don't  bring  me  no  more  than  $50  or  |6o  per  year.  I  send  this 


190  THE   KNAPSACK 


note  with  my  neighbor,  Mr.  -  ,  he  can  tell  you  the  same.  I  send 
the  insurance  papers  to  you  with  him,  and  told  him  to  pay  you  some  for 
your  trouble  of  making  out  these  papers,  I  hope  you  will  have  a  little 
mercy  on  an  unfortunate  old  man. 

Yours  with  sorrow  and  regret. 


"IN  OTHER   RESPECTS.'' 

In  that  clever  combine  styled  the  P.  I.  U., 
Whose  members  are  in  a  continual  stew, 
They  have  been  perspiring  for  quite  a  long  spell, 
But,  in  other  respects  they  are  doing  quite  well. 

High  salaried  agents  have  been  all  the  go, 
While  excess  commissions  have  had  a  fair  show  ; 
And  specials  have  worked,  local  business  to  swell, 
But,  in  other  respects,  they  are  doing  quite  well. 

Amendments  have  been  ground  out  by  the  score, 
And  its  thought  there  may  be  a  few  dozen  more  ; 
They  are  aimed  at  the  agent,  his  spirit  to  quell, 
But,  in  other  respects,  they  are  doing  quite  well. 

Collections,  that  once  were  remote  from  our  gaze, 
Or  else  out  of  sight,  are  now  thirty  days  ; 
There  is  trouble  in  Lodi  and  far  Kalispel, 
But,  in  other  respects,  they  are  doing  quite  well. 

Some  worked  up  farm  business  by  aid  of  a  note, 
With  interest  old  enough,  almost,  to  vote; 
While  those  who  got  left  said,  "it  is  a  sell"  ; 
But,  in  other  respects,  they  are  doing  quite  well. 

Macdonald  and  Button  pulled  hard  for  biz, 
And  what  each  didn't  get  he  thought  should  be  his 
When  'Frisco  burns  they  will  murmur,  "O,  h  —  1  !  " 
But,  in  other  respects,  may  be  doing  quite  well. 

A.  Turner,  for  exercise,  leaped  from  the  ring, 
MagilPs  double-decker  joined  in  the  mad  fling  ; 
They  slid  back  with  a  thud  that  is  painful  to  tell, 
But,  in  other  respects,  they  are  doing  quite  well. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1893  191 


Hugh  Craig  and  George  Dornin  each  wrote  a  letter ; 
They  misquoted  Scripture  and  seemed  to  feel  better ; 
They  shot  at  a  target  and  sounded  the  bell, 
But,  in  other  respects,  they  are  doing  quite  well. 

Alas,  for  the  pride  of  brave  "Yankee  Doodle!  " 
Foreign  companies  carried  off  half  of  the  boodle ! 
They  took  in  six  millions  with  a  bold  British  yell, 
But,  in  other  respects,  they  are  doing  quite  well. 

Of  topical  songs  you  've  perhaps  had  enough  ; 
Though  easy  to  write,  their  allusions  are  tough ; 
But  when  Carpenter  sings  them  none  will  rebel, 
And,  in  other  respects,  they  are  doing  quite  well. 


THE  OLD  ADJUSTER'S   DREAM. 

He  had  kissed  the  dear  little  tots  good-night, 
After  their  evening  prayers  were  said ; 

They  had  whispered  softly,  "God  bless  you,  pop," 
And  were  off  to  their  trundle  beds. 

By  the  soft  mellow  light  from  the  coals  in  the  grate 
In  his  own  little  "Home,  sweet  home," 

The  adjuster  leaned  back  in  his  large  easy  chair, 
By  his  fireside  all  alone. 

Scenes  from  the  past  he  pictured 
In  the  shadows  around  him  dark  and  deep, 

And  the  old  gray  head  fell  down  on  his  breast — 
The  adjuster  was  fast  asleep. 

He  dreamed  he  was  young  and  was  just  starting  out, 

And  things  were  a  coming  his  way, 
He  was  gathering  risks  from  all  parts  of  the  world ; 

He  was  writing  a  thousand  a  day. 

He  ordered  his  blanks  by  the  car-load ; 

They  put  on  a  hundred  more  clerks, 
Who  put  in  their  nights  and  their  Sundays, 

But  they  couldn't  keep  up  with  his  work. 


703  THE   KNAPSACK     1893 


He  insured  all  the  gold  in  the  mountains, 
All  the  fruit  that  would  grow  on  the  trees ; 

He  insured  all  the  snow  on  the  top  of  Mt.  Hood, 
And  the  fishes  that  swim  in  the  seas. 

All  the  fire-work  factories  and  gun-powder  mills, 

And  the  places  they  store  dynamite, 
Were  all  gathered  in,  and  he  marked  them  "first-class," 

And  said  "  Business  was  way  out  of  sight." 

He  brought  in  a  risk  from  some  underground  place, 

From  a  Mr.  D.  Evil  by  name, 
And  he  made  it  for  ten  million  dollars, 

Just  to  show  he  was  thoroughbred  game. 

The  ink  on  the  policy  hardly  had  dried 

When  D.  Evil,  he  put  in  a  claim, 
And  tried  to  collect  his  ten  million 

From  this  agent  of  such  renowned  fame. 

He  acknowledged  the  loss,  recommended  the  payment 
To  the  adjuster,  who  stood  near  the  door, 

Who  grabbed  this  invincible  "  son  of  a  gun," 
And  with  him  he  swept  up  the  floor. 

Mr.  D.  Evil  he  threw  from  the  window, 

And  as  to  the  bottom  he  fell, 
The  adjuster  he  roared,  " I'll  be  d if  I '11  pay 

One  cent  of  insurance  on  h ." 

Then  he  cussed  in  his  sleep  and  tore  at  his  hair, 

And  his  voice  it  was  higher  and  higher, 
And  he  woke  up  to  find  it  was  only  a  myth — 

He  'd  been  dreaming  alone  by  the  fire. 


Song  composed  by  MR.  W.  J.  CALLINGHAM,  to  be  sung  by  him  at  the  Annual  Dinner. 
AIR— "The  Bowery." 

I. 

Again  we're  here  for  our  annual  "  meet," 
With  H.  M.  Grant  in  the  president's  seat; 
His  State  passed  valued  policy  law, 
And  gives  us  another  tough  bone  to  chaw. 
We've  contended  with  more  than  our  share, 


THE   KNAPSACK     1893 


Now  Oregon  clutches  at  our  back  hair ; 
We  '11  have  to  raise  the  current  rates  there, 
And  they  '11  never  pass  laws  any  more. 

Oregonians !    Oregonians ! 
They  should  know  better  our  efforts  to  fetter ; 
They  surely  will  box  us  with  their  laws,  obnoxious, 

Oregonians !    Oregonians ! 
They'll  never  pass  laws  any  more. 


II. 

Then  Turner's  notice  for  thirty  days 
Gave  a  promise  the  mischief  to  raise ; 
He  held  out,  and  justly,  too ; 
The  Credit  System  never  would  do. 
The  Compact  felt  they'd  struck  a  snag, 
The  manager  wanted  to  get  on  a  jag ; 
But  his  noble  head  he  gravely  would  wag, 
And  he  refused  to  go  out  any  more. 

The  Compact !  The  Compact ! 
It  looked  as  tho'  it  would  surely  go ; 

The  Compact !  The  Compact ! 
He  refused  to  go  out  any  more. 


III. 

Then  the  manager  packed  his  grip, 
Hied  him  away  on  an  Eastern  trip 
To  that  city  of  excellent  beer — 
I  think  they  call  it  Milwaukee  here. 
He  was  successful  with  President  James, 
Came  back  and  called  him  affectionate  names, 
Jumped  into  harness,  pulled  hard  with  the  hames ; 
He'll  not  have  to  go  back  any  more. 

Milwaukee !     Milwaukee ! 
They  drink  good  beer  and  it  makes  you  feel  queer, 

In  Milwaukee  !     Milwaukee ! 
He  '11  not  have  to  go  back  any  more. 


194  THE   KNAPSACK     1893 

IV. 

Craig  stepped  in  with  his  warlike  shout, 
Troubled  and  worried  us  all  about ; 
This  reform  was  much  too  rich, 
And  every  measure  he  'd  try  to  ditch ; 
After  tossing  in  bed  one  night, 
At  last  he  saw  that  the  thing  was  right ; 
Got  into  line  and  he  quit  his  fight, 
And  he  never  will  fight  any  more. 

The  Maori !    The  Maori ! 
He's  got  New  Zealand,  we  wish  him  weal; 

The  Maori !    The  Maori ! 
And  like  "Slade,"  he'll  not  fight  any  more. 

V. 

The  executive  committee  is  doing  good  work ; 

They  are  pushers  and  never  shirk. 

Look !  the  accounts !     How  they  all  come  in  ! 

Agents  are  rustling  and  sending  the  "tin." 

The  "U.  A.  P."  is  the  proper  stuff; 

Stand  with  the  committee  and  make  it  rough 

For  all  who  offend,  till  they  cry  enough, 

And  never  offend  any  more. 

The  Local !  The  Local ! 
He's  made  up  his  mind  that  we're  the  right  kind  ; 

The  Local !  The  Local ! 
He'll  never  offend  any  more. 

VI. 

And  now,  before  I  finish  my  song, 
Let  me  beg  of  you  always  be  strong ; 
Keep  your  course  in  your  manly  way, 
No  one  will  ever  your  rights  gainsay  ; 
And  I'm  sure  in  another  year, 
If  we  're  alive  and  again  meet  here, 
There  '11  be  no  one  to  pull  by  the  ear, 
For  they'll  never  drop  out  any  more. 

Hurrah,  then !     Hurrah,  then  ! 
The  year's  begun  fine,  with  them  all  in  line, 

So  hurrah,  then !     Hurrah,  then ! 
They  '11  never  drop  out  any  more. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1893  795 

AN  ARIZONA  ADJUSTMENT. 
(As  related  by  Monte  George.) 

AT  THE  time  of  the  big  fire  at  Tombstone,  I  was  dealing  faro  for  Bill 
Johnson  in  the  Palace  saloon.  He  moved  most  of  his  things  and 
didn't  lose  much. 

"I've  got  a  thousand  insurance,"  said  Bill.  "I  didn't  lose  more'n 
five  hundred,  but  they  tell  me  you  always  get  what  you  insure  for.  Its 
like  a  lottery;  you  buy  a  policy,  and,  if  your  burned  out,  you  draw  a 
prize.  They  say  it 's  a  dead  square  game,  and  I  played  her  up  to  the 
limit  to  win.  Vickers,  the  agent  who  sold  me  the  policy,  sent  to  San 
Francisco  for  a  special  adjuster  to  fix  the  thing  up,  so  as  to  be  sure  and 
have  everything  all  right." 

Three  days  after  the  fire  the  adjuster  arrived.  His  name  was  Wil- 
liam Henry  Harrison  Benton.  He  was  a  nice  looking,  smooth-spoken 
man,  not  very  large.  He  looked  some  like  Jay  Gould.  I  saw  Gould  at 
Hailey  two  years  ago,  and  he  talked  and  acted  a  good  deal  like  Benton. 
Well,  Benton  stayed  around  for  a  week  or  so,  and  finally  told  Bill  he  was 
ready  to  settle,  and  we  three  went  into  one  of  the  poker  rooms  in  Bill's 
new  saloon  to  talk  it  over. 

"Now,  Mr.  Johnson,"  said  Benton,  "I've  figured  up  the  value  of 
your  furniture  and  fixtures  that  were  burned,  and  I  find  they  amount  to 

$359.63." 

"  But  I  thought  I'd  get  the  whole  thousand,"  said  Bill. 

"Oh,  no!"  said  the  adjuster,  "because  you  saved  the  balance  of  the 
stuff.  We  only  pay  you  for  what's  burned." 

"Guess  you're  right,"  said  Bill. 

"Then  there's  the  depreciation  to  come  off." 

"What's  that?"  asked  Bill. 

"The  wear  and  tear ;  the  difference  between  old  and  new.  You  had 
the  furniture  four  months,  and  I'll  figure  the  depreciation  down  low,  say 
forty  per  cent. ;  that's  only  ten  per  cent,  a  month." 

"Isn't  that  a  good  deal?"  said  Bill.  "  If  I'd  had  it  a  year,  I'd  been 
worse  off  than  nothing." 

Benton  smiled  and  replied,  "No,  that's  very  reasonable.  There's  an 
adjuster  named  Beard,  at  Denver,  whom  we  call  'Old  Depreciation/ 
who  'd  have  made  it  sixty  per  cent.,  at  least." 

"  Don't  send  for  Beard,"  said  Bill.     "Let  her  go  at  forty." 

"So,  taking  off  the  depreciation,  that's  $143.75;  leaves  your  actual 
loss  just  $215.88." 

Bill  looked  over  the  figures,  drew  a  long  breath,  and  said,  "That's 
correct.  Will  you  pay  the  money  here,  or  send  it  from  San  Francisco?" 


196  THE   KNAPSACK     1893 


"By  the  way,"   asked  the  adjuster,    "what   rate  did   you  pay?" 

"A  hundred  and  twenty  dollars  for  the  thousand,"  answered  Bill, 
"  and  it  seemed  to  me  rather  steep." 

"That  was  reasonable,"  said  Benton,  "very  reasonable.  Now, 
there's  another  little  proposition." 

"Spring  5er,"  said  Bill.  (I'll say  right  here  that  Johnson  was  one  of 
the  coolest  and  gamest  men  I  ever  met ;  nothing  could  startle  him.) 

"Did  you  ever  read  the  adjuster's  clause?"  continued  Benton,  point- 
ing to  some  fine  blue  print  on  the  policy. 

"No.    What's  that?"  asked  Bill. 

"  That  provides  that  you  shall  pay  the  expenses  of  the  adjustment, 
because  Tombstone  is  so  far  from  San  Francisco." 

"That  seems  reasonable,"  said  Bill. 

"Yes,  that's  only  right,"  said  Benton,  "and  it  makes  it  easier  for 
the  companies.  I've  made  up  my  bill  of  expenses,  and  here  it  is : 

Fare  from  San  Francisco  to  Tombstone  and  back    .   .  $115  88 

Hotel  and  other  expenses,  ten  days .  .      50  oo 

Ten  days'  time,  at  $20  a  day 200  oo 


Total $365  88 

Less  amount  of  loss 215  88 


Balance  due  the  company  from  you,  just $150  oo  even." 

Bill  thought  for  a  minute,  then  pulled  out  seven  twenties  and  two 
fives,  handed  them  to  Benton,  and  said,  "  That  seems  to  be  according  to 
the  contract,  and  here  's  your  money.  I  played  to  win  out,  and  ought  to 
have  coppered  her;  but,  look  here  Benton,  I  don't  want  to  say  anything 
to  hurt  your  feelings,  but  I'm  not  going  to  insure  any  more  if  that  d — d 
adjuster's  clause  is  in.  The  percentage  against  me  is  too  heavy." 

Benton  laughed,  and  we  all  took  a  drink  at  Bill's  expense. 

Since  then  Bill  and  I  have  talked  that  case  over  a  hundred  times,  I 
suppose,  but  we  always  came  to  the  same  conclusion  that  it  was  a  fair, 
square  game,  but  an  unlucky  deal. 

Bill  tried  to  hire  Benton  to  stay  in  Tombstone  and  run  his  new 
saloon  for  him,  but  couldn't  get  him  to  give  up  insurance.  He  said  it 
was  a  surer  thing.  EDWARD  NILES. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1893  '97 


THE  MODEST-MANNERED  MAIDEN. 

As  sung  by  E.  W.  CAKPBNTER  at  the 

Banquet  of  the  Fire  Underwriters'  Association  of  the  Pacific, 
San  Francisco,  February  21,  1893. 

In  a  manager's  office  daily  sat,  with  keen,  receptive  ear, 

A  typical,  clickical,  short-hand  girl,  to  every  secret  near; 

Yet  she  kept  this  knowledge  all  to  herself,  was  mum  as  a  maid  can  be, 

Though  occasionally  heard,  with  manner  severe,  to  remark  complacently, 

Should  you  seek  an  explanation, 
Or  insurance  information, 

I'm  a  frozen  font  of  wisdom  that  responds  to  nary  call ; 
Yet  with  underwriting  knowledge 
I  could  discount  any  college ; 

I'm  a  modest-mannered  maiden,  but  I  know  it  all. 

I  could  tell  what  agents  at  Christmas-time  get  checks  for  souvenirs, 
What  brokers  have  their  private  plans  that  DuVal  never  hears ; 
I  know  the  girl  who  draws  her  pay  without  a  stroke  of  work, 
But  whose  papa's  biz  just  ten  times  is  her  "wages"  as  a  clerk. 

Each  of  all  these  high-toned  dodges 
In  this  little  cranium  lodges  ; 

I  can  walk  all  round  the  P.  I.  U.  and  never  trip  or  fall. 
To  the  letter  keep  each  ruling, 
While  its  spirit  I'm  befooling ; 

I'm  a  modest-mannered  maiden,  but  I  know  it  all. 

I  see  the  letter  that  is  sent  from  "home,"  indignant  with  regrets 
That  the  other  man  pays  rebates  on  'bout  every  risk  he  gets ; 
Yet,  hold  your  business,  come  what  may  (the  writer '11  always  add), 
Which  is  English  sly  for  cheat  and  lie :   the  income  must  be  had. 

Our  instructions  may  degrade  you, 
But  the  compensation  paid  you 

Ought  to  keep  your  manhood  notions  microscopically  small ; 
So  preserve  the  Union  running, 
And  we'll  jointly  gain  by  cunning  ; 

I'm  a  modest-mannered  maiden,  but  I  know  it  all. 

I  could  name  the  agent  whose  misfit  draft  don't  pay  the  balance  due 
Per  monthly  statement,  so  nicely  drawn  to  fool  the  P.  I.  U. ; 
I  have  seen  the  cunning  special's  charge  for  extra  railway  fare, 
Wherewith  he'd  buy,  at  figures  high,  a  local  here  and  there. 


'THE   KNAPSACK      1893 


Yet,  we  flaunt  our  morals  proudly, 
In  the  Union  preach  most  loudly, 

And  non-concurring  brethren  we,  names,  distinctive  call ; 
Always  vote  for  measures  winning, 
Then  evade  them  by  our  sinning ; 

I'm  a  modest-mannered  maiden,  but  I  know  it  all. 

And  I  know  the  genial  manager  who  just  drops  in,  to  say 

He  thought  he'd  call  to  see  if  we  were  all  alive  to-day; 

Then  deftly  turns  the  tide  of  speech  towards  what  he  wants  to  know, 

And  we've  sometimes  lied  to  dam  that  tide  and  stop  its  babbling  flow. 

We  would  not  descend  to  rudeness, 
So,  with  underwriting  shrewdness 

We  just  keep  polite  and  popular  by  fiblets  letting  fall ; 
We're  so  choice  of  others'  feelings 
That  deceit  marks  all  our  dealings ; 

I'm  a  modest-mannered  maiden,  but  I  know  it  all. 

So  many  were  the  truths  this  maiden  told,  all  causing  deep  distrust, 
That  to  get  her  off  the  office  force  the  manager  thought  he  must ; 
So  he  married  the  maid ;  but  within  a  year  the  Union  went  to  smash  ; 
And  in  those  sad  days  it  was  hard  to  raise,  for  lingerie,  the  cash. 

So  the  mother,  once  the  maiden, 
With  much  care  and  trouble  laden, 

Now  bemoans  the  day  when  honesty  gave  place  to  guilt  and 

gall; 

Now  her  husband's  income 's  nothing, 
She  supports  him  doing  washing ; 

She 's  a  wisdom-wrinkled  woman,  and  she  knows  it  all. 

Should  insurance  situations  call  for  further  explanations, 
She's  a  broke-up  fount  of  wisdom  that  responds  to  every  call, 
And  with  floods  of  frigid  knowledge  she  could  deluge  any  college ; 
She's  a  wisdom-wrinkled  woman,  and  she  tells  it  all. 

Moral :— Nothing  but  the  maiden. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1894  199 


EDITORIAL,    1894.  GEO.   F.   GRANT. 


EDITORIAL. 

*WENTY-FIVE  years  ago  a  man  working  in  an  insurance  office  was 
taught  to  believe  that  the  first  requisite  for  making  money  in  his 
business  was  an  adequate  rate.  The  subject  of  rates  was  the 
theme  for  private  lectures  and  public  papers.  So  imbued  did  he  become 
with  this  idea  of  rates,  that  the  first  printed  speech  containing  a  doubt  of 
this  theory  gave  him  a  shock  of  disapproval,  and  the  author  was  regarded 
in  the  light  of  an  apostate.  It  is  useless  now  to  speculate  on  the  motive 
of  the  author.  He  may  have  been  a  crank  out  of  a  job,  or  one  ambitious 
for  notoriety  as  an  advanced  thinker. 

The  seed  he  dropped  took  root  and  bore  fruit.  Year  after  year  the 
doubt  was  nursed,  until  at  last  it  lost  a  doubt's  identity.  Since  then, 
every  ingenious  theory  imaginable  has  been  presented  in  an  endeavor  to 
prove  why  the  net  profit  should  not  depend  upon  the  rate  at  which 
policies  are  written. 

When  the  Compact  office  was  born,  it  came  for  the  purpose  of 
controlling  the  morals  of  the  business.  The  Compact  manager  was  the 
keeper  of  the  insurance  conscience,  and  like  a  faithful  monitor  stood 
watch  over  the  just  and  unjust,  holding  all  to  a  strict  account  and  showing 
favoritism  to  none. 

In  an  unguarded  moment  the  manager,  listening  to  the  logical  siren, 
reduced  a  rate  on  apparently  technical  grounds,  but  before  he  could, 
metaphorically  speaking,  say  Jack  Robinson,  he  had  reduced  the  rate  on 
the  whole  class  to  which  this  risk  belonged ;  and  this  was  done,  too, 
under  pressure  of  the  "  Governing  Board  "  and  to  the  great  satisfaction 
of  every  competing  solicitor  and  the  calm  delight  of  the  policyholder. 

Then  some  one  advanced  the  idea  that  if  rates  were  only  reduced  all 
around  it  would  prevent  the  disruption  of  the  Compact,  because  it  would 
leave  the  rate-cutter  nothing  in  particular  to  cut  from.  For  look  you,  it 
seems  to  be  better  to  roll  up  a  large  volume  of  business,  and  thus 
demonstrate  superiority  over  one's  adversary,  than  to  stand  guard  over 
the  rate. 

Whatever  element  of  chance  there  may  happen  to  be  in  the  business 
thus  becomes  the  foremost  idol  of  the  hour, 


200  THE   KNAPSACK      1894 

Fortunately  for  the  Pacific  Coast  we  have  been  too  old  fashioned  to 
tread  rapidly  in  the  footsteps  of  our  Eastern  brothers,  but  we  are  tending 
that  way.  Year  after  year  the  wail  of  "no  profit,"  is  heard  from  over 
beyond  the  Rocky  mountains.  Year  after  year  the  conflagration  hazard 
increases. 

I  leave  to  others  the  analysis  of  the  fire  waste,  but  to  you  members  of 
the  Association  I  recommend  the  subject  of  adequate  rates  on  the  Pacific 
Coast. 

One  constant  menace  to  the  rate  is  the  "patent  appliance."  Some- 
times it  comes  in  the  guise  of  an  improved  fire  alarm;  again  as  an 
extinguisher ;  but  whatever  form  it  takes  it  is  accompanied  by  no  end  of 
printed  proof  of  superiority,  and  a  talking  agent  before  whom  logic  and 
reason  are  expected  to  fade  away,  and  reduction  of  rates  to  then  and 
there  obtain.  If  this  were  all  it  would  be  better;  but  hardly  have  we 
become  accustomed  to  the  reduced  rate,  when  an  able  talker,  with  more 
pamphlets,  nails  us  down,  demanding  a  further  reduction  because  of  an 
improvement  in  the  patent. 

The  older  one  grows  and  the  more  experience  one  gets  in  the 
world's  affairs,  the  more  he  learns  to  know  that  persistent  effort  will 
accomplish  almost  anything. 

If  a  local  agent  sets  his  mind  on  the  reduction  of  a  certain  rate  he 
will  get  it.  It  may  take  time,  but  he  will  get  it.  And  as  one  good  turn 
deserves  another,  other  agents  will  get  reductions  on  similar  risks,  and 
get  them  the  more  easily  because  of  the  precedent  established. 

There  never  was  a  better  time  than  now  to  agitate  the  subject  of 
adequate  rates.  We  have  just  left  behind  us  a  hard  year.  All  have  not 
suffered  alike — the  rule  is  proven  by  the  exception.  Before  us  we  face 
we  know  not  what.  But,  associates  and  friends,  if  experience  is  worth 
the  lives  worn  out  to  gain  it,  why  not  accept  the  advantage  which  costs 
us  nothing! 

Let  us  return,  as  nearly  as  possible,  to  the  theory  which  controlled 
men  in  the  insurance  business  twenty-five  years  ago.  Let  us  return  to 
adequate  rates. 


A  LADY,  writing  from  Tacoma  to  a  general  manager  here,  complains 
that  she  was  insured  in  the  Tacoma  Insurance  Company  of  Tacoma, 
Washington ;  says  that  she  went  into  this  because  she  thought  it  was 
controlled  by  good  men,  and  she  got  a  little  lower  rate,  but  winds  up  her 
letter  by  stating  that  hereafter  she  will  not  insure  in  sound  companies. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1894  201 


AFTER  THE   FIRE. 

A  bright  young  special  climbed  on  the  veteran's  knee, 
Begged  for  a  story  :     "Do  tell  to  me, 
Why  are  you  sighing,  why  do  you  groan, 
Have  you  no  hope  left,  why  that  deep  moan?" 
"I  once  was  cheerful,  years,  years  ago, 
What,  boy,  has  changed  me,  you  will  soon  know ; 
List  to  the  story,  and  do  not  tire, 
I  lost  my  faith  in  man, 
After  the  fire." 

After  the  blaze  is  over, 
After  the  smoke  is  away, 
After  the  ashes  are  sifted, 
After  we  've  all  had  to  pay, 
Many  a  heart  is  aching, 
As  the  message  goes  by  wire, 
Many  contingents  are  scattered, 
After  the  fire. 

"Once,  in  Montana,  traveling  up  and  down, 
I  stopped  at  Butte—  a  rather  rapid  town ; 
An  expert  was  with  me— some  call  him  '  Bill'  ; 
He  and  I  together  soon  had  our  fill. 
There  was  a  dry  goods  stock  ; 
There  was  a  liar ; 
There  was  a  smoke  damage, 
After  the  fire." 

After  the  flames  are  over, 
After  the  hose  has  burst, 
After  the  claim  has  swollen, 
After  we  all  have  cursed, 
Then  the  figures  are  twisted, 
Till  we  are  in  the  mire — 
Seventy  thousand  they  wanted  ! 
After  the  fire. 

"Since  then  I  've  lost  my  faith, 
Do  you  wonder  why? 
The  loss  was  not  five  thousand, 
So  said  Bill  and  I ; 


202  THE   KNAPSACK     1894 


Every  rusty  piece  of  goods 
That  couldn't  find  a  buyer, 
Was  put  in  as  a  total  loss, 
After  the  fire." 

After  the  fire  is  over, 
After  the  proofs  are  made, 
After  appraisement  is  ended, 
After  the  damage  is  laid  ; 
O,  how  companies  suffer, 
And  how  adjusters  tire, 
Of  paying  unholy  loss  claims, 
After  the  fire. 


THE  NEW  AGENT  AT  HANGING  ROCK. 

'TpHERE  was  a  vein  of  originality  about  our  new  agent  at  Hanging 
Jl  Rock,  Colorado,  that  led  us  to  hope  that  he  would  pan  out  the 
pure  metal,  with  only  a  trace,  here  and  there,  of  lead  and  copper, 
but  the  final  assays  were  disappointing. 

When  he  agreed  to  act  for  us,  he  said :  "I  don't  know  much  about 
insurance,  but  I'm  a  hustler  and  willing  to  learn."  That  sounded 
encouraging,  and  I  began  to  read  to  him  our  prohibited  list,  beginning 
with  "auction  stock"  and  ending  with  "zinc  factories,"  calling  special 
attention  to  the  combustibility  of  "hay  barns,"  "Chinese  laundries"  and 
"powder  magazines";  ringing  the  alarm  on  "cigars  and  tobacco"; 
calling  in  the  patrol  on  "lithographic  stones,"  and  sounding  the  police 
whistle  on  "wall  paper  and  paint  stock." 

He  interrupted  me  with  the  remark:  "I  can't  remember  all  of 
those.  All  I  want  is  to  know  the  risks  you  can  take,  for  after  I  write  a 
policy,  I  never  will  cancel." 

I  gave  him  the  desired  information;  cautioned  him  about  limits, 
moral  hazard  and  prompt  remittances,  and  took  the  morning  stage  for 
Gunnison. 

His  first  letter,  received  some  two  weeks  later,  said  : 

"I'm  working  up  a  big  business  on  a  new  plan.  You  will  be 
surprised  when  you  learn  how  simple  and  easy  it  is.  I  'm  careful  about 
getting  an  A  i  moral  hazard  and  no  excess  lines.  Yesterday,  Bill  Brown 
wrote  up  a  policy  of  $2,500  on  the  furniture  and  fixtures  and  everything  in 
the  house,  situate  in  the  'Miners'  Home,'  a  first-rate,  third-class,  wooden 
hotel,  with  stovepipe  flues,  ten  miles  from  here,  at  the  crossing  of 


THE   KNAPSACK     1894  203 


Rattlesnake  Gulch  and  Mesquit  Creek.  The  whole  outfit  isn't  worth  six 
hundred,  but  Bill  is  a  dead  shot,  and  said  if  the  policy  didn't  stick,  he'd 
cancel  me  at  short  range  with  a  Winchester,  and  wipe  out  the  agency ; 
so  I  reinsured  $2,475  with  the  other  agent,  keeping  $25  for  us,  covering 
on  the  cook  stove,  with  patent  water  back.  If  she  burns,  as  I  think  she 
will,  we  '11  have  a  salvage,  sure." 

During  the  next  six  months,  he  sent  in  nineteen  curiously  worded 
reports,  with  the  numbers  badly  mixed. 

We  supplied  him  with  fifty  policies,  numbered  from  ten  thousand  five 
hundred  and  one  to  ten  thousand  five  hundred  and  fifty.  None  of  the 
numbers  of  his  reports  were  consecutive.  In  answer  to  queries,  he 
merely  said:  "That 's  my  new  system  a  workin'."  Finally,  I  made  a 
special  trip  from  Denver  to  Hanging  Rock,  and  asked  an  explanation. 

"This  system  is  simple  and  effective,"  said  he.  "I  thought  it  out 
myself,  and  it 's  a  daisy.  Of  course,  I  don't  know  anything  about  policy 
writing,  and  the  man  who  wants  to  insure  knows  what  he  wants  better 
than  I  can  tell  him ;  so  I  signed  all  of  the  policies  and  distributed  them 
around  town,  among  the  business  men,  and  asked  them,  whenever  they 
got  ready  to  insure,  to  fill  out  the  policies  themselves  and  let  me  know. 
Then  I  let  you  know,  and  that 's  the  reason  the  numbers  don't  run 
regular.  If  number  forty-nine  writes  up  his  policy  before  number  nine- 
teen, I  send  the  report  right  in.  In  time,  the  numbers  will  check  up  all 
right,  but  it  may  take  a  year  before  they  all  fit  in.  How  do  you  like  the 
system;  isn't  it  neat?  It  suits  our  people  exactly." 

I  stayed  a  week  ;  got  in  all  of  our  policies,  except  Bill  Brown's,  and 
took  up  the  agency. 

It  was  a  needed  lesson,  and  I  profited  by  it. 

LITTLE  JACK  HORNER  sat  in  the  corner 

Thinking  if  profits  were  stringent ; 
He  called  in  his  forces  to  foot  up  his  losses. 

Good-bye  to  Jack  Homer's  contingent. 


THE  Colorado  specials,  as  well  as  accountants,  who  have  a  vivid 

recollection  of  J B 's  hieroglyphics,  will  be  pleased  to  learn  why 

his  agency  was  popular  and  why  he  controlled  so  much  good  business. 

The  reason,  as  given  by  one  of  his  clients,  was,  that  under  one  of  J 

B 's  policies  one  could  recover  for  any  property  burned  anywhere,  as 

no  adjuster  could  prove  by  the  written  portion  of  the  policy  what  property 
was,  or  what  property  was  not,  intended  to  be  covered. 


204  ^HE    KNAPSACK     1894 


A  COLORADO  ADJUSTMENT. 

to  the  time  of  the  fire,  I  thought  Isidor  was  square.  He  was  a 
Jew,  and  his  ancestors  lived  in  Poland,  but  his  credit  was  high  at 
the  banks.  He  paid  good  wages,  and  made  the  usual  hundred 
per  cent,  on  cheap  goods,  and  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  per  cent,  on  the 
highest  grades.  He  kept  all  of  the  Hebrew  holidays,  but  stood  in  with 
Christians,  and  was  considered  a  superior  specimen  of  his  race.  When 
it  came  to  a  question  of  street  car  fare  or  postage  stamps,  he  was  as  close 
as  some  Eastern  men ;  but  I  did  think  he  had  too  much  business  sense  to 
match  his  wits  against  a  Yankee.  Still,  you  never  can  tell. 

The  firm  name  was  Wilzinski  &  Rosenstein.  Its  members  were 
Isidor  Wilzinski  and  Moritz  Rosenstein,  the  latter  having  a  quarter 
interest  and  little  to  say  in  the  management.  I  kept  the  books  and 
occasionally  acted  as  salesman.  Their  main  store  was  at  Pueblo, 
occupying  the  basement  and  first  and  second  floors  of  the  Kirtland  Block, 
on  Santa  Fe  avenue,  where  they  carried  a  stock  of  clothing,  averaging 
from  $20,000  to  $30,000.  They  were  sole  agents  for  the  Stetson  hats ; 
E.  &  W.  collars  and  cuffs;  Douglas  three-dollar  shoes,  and  Jaeger 
underwear;  were  rated  "62"  by  Bradstreet,  and  were  supposed  to  be 
doing  a  profitable  trade.  They  also  had  branch  stores  at  Canon  City 
and  Cripple  Creek. 

Pueblo  had  never  been  so  dull.  The  Bessemer  rolling  mills  had 
been  shut  down  several  months ;  the  Mesa  Hotel  had  just  burned ;  the 
Grand  Hotel  had  been  closed  for  a  year,  and  "the  Pittsburg  of  Colorado  " 
looked  like  San  Diego  after  the  boom.  Our  business  had  fallen  off  one- 
half;  collections  were  almost  impossible;  creditors  were  pressing,  and 
ruin  seemed  near  at  hand. 

The  firm  had  been  carrying  $19,000  on  stock.  The  policies  all 
expired  on  October  ist.  On  September  isth  we  completed  an  inventory, 
showing  a  stock  value  of  $20,583.37.  Isidor  kept  the  inventory, 
and  made  no  record  of  it  on  the  books.  Our  policies  had  the  usual  broad 
permit:  "Other  concurrent  insurance  herewith  permitted."  On 
renewal,  the  insurance  was  increased  to  $29,000. 

About  10  o'clock  on  Sunday  evening,  October  isth,  the  alarm 
sounded,  and  a  dense  volume  of  smoke  was  seen  pouring  from  the  base- 
ment of  our  store.  The  Pueblo  fire  department  is  a  good  one;  the 
firemen  made  a  lightning  hitch  and  run;  threw  two  streams  in  the 
basement,  and  had  the  fire  put  out  within  seven  minutes  after  the  alarm. 

Monday  morning  the  firm  notified  the  local  agents  that  they  had 
sustained  a  heavy  loss,  and  asked  for  an  immediate  adjustment.  The 
companies  were  advised  of  the  claim,  and  on  the  Wednesday  following 


THE   KNAPSACK     1894 


four  adjusters  arrived  from  Denver.  They  examined  the  stock ;  looked 
wise,  said  little,  smoked  good  cigars,  and  told  several  stories  that  were 
entirely  new  to  me,  but  did  nothing  definite  toward  a  settlement.  On  the 
afternoon  of  the  second  day  after  their  arrival  Isidor  grew  uneasy. 

" How  soon  will  you  get  this  fixed?"  he  asked.  "We  want  to  clean 
up  and  open  the  store.  Our  expenses  are  going  on,  and  we  are  losing 
fifty  dollars  a  day,  easy." 

The  adjusters  laughed,  and  lighted  fresh  cigars,  and  resumed  their 
anecdotes.  Isidor  was  getting  mad.  Just  then  there  was  a  light  rap  on 
the  front  door,  which  had  been  tightly  closed.  Isidor  opened  it,  and  in 
stepped  a  quiet-looking  man,  who  said,  with  a  pleasant  smile : 

"Is  this  Mr.  Wilzinski?" 

"  What 's  left  of  him,"  growled  Isidor.     "  Who  are  you?" 

"  My  name  is  Bird,"  said  the  new  comer,  handing  him  a  card  reading 
as  follows : 


A.  BIRD, 

Adjuster  of  Fire  Losses, 
1561  Curtis  Street, 

Denver. 


"I  represent  thirteen  thousand  of  your  insurance.  Is  there  any 
damage  ? ' ' 

' '  Is  there  any  damage  ? ' '  repeated  Isidor ;  ' '  there 's  fourteen  thousand 
five  hundred.  At  any  rate,  that's  what  we  first  claimed,  but  the  stock's 
looking  worse  and  worse,  and  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  we  lost  twenty 
thousand." 

"May  I  trouble  you  to  show  me  your  policies?"  asked  the  adjuster. 

"Certainly,  Mr.  Bird,"  said  Isidor,  "no  trouble  at  all." 

After  closely  examining  the  policies,  the  adjuster  inquired : 

"Where  did  the  fire  start  ?  " 

"In  the  basement,"  said  Isidor, — adding  quickly,  "that  is,  we  think 
so." 

"  Let  me  see  the  basement,  please,"  asked  Bird. 

"Why,  there's  nothing  there,"  said  Isidor,  changing  color  a  little. 
" We  didn't  keep  any  stock  there;  there's  nothing  but  old  boxes  and 
rubbish." 

"I'm  not  particular  about  going  down,  myself,"  answered  Bird,  in  a 
very  smooth,  pleasant  way — "in  fact,  it  isn't  really  necessary,  but  you 
know  the  rules  of  the  companies,  Mr.  Wilzinski ;  they  expect  us  to  go  all 


206  THE   KNAPSACK     1894 


through  a  building.  There's  no  sense  in  it,  but  I  '11  just  look  down  for  a 
minute  and  let  it  go  at  that." 

They  went  down.  Bird  looked  carelessly  around  and  remarked : 
"  There 's  quite  a  strong  smell  of  coal  oil." 

"We  filled  our  lamps  down  here,"  said  Isidor. 

After  returning  up  stairs  and  looking  carefully  through  the  stock, 
Bird  consulted  with  the  other  adjusters  for  a  few  minutes,  during  which 
recess  Isidor  and  his  partner  had  a  quiet  conversation  in  the  office,  of 
which  I  caught  the  words:  "Raise  him  to  twenty  thousand,  Isidor; 
he '11  stand  it." 

Bird  then  came  forward  and  said:  "The  other  adjusters  have 
authorized  me  to  act  for  them.  Is  that  agreeable  to  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Isidor,  "perfectly.  I'd  rather  have  it  that  way.  When 
I  first  saw  you,  I  said  to  myself,  'there's  a  fair,  square  man,  who  knows 
his  business.'" 

"All  right,"  said  Bird,  "  it  won't  take  five  minutes  to  settle  it.  Do  I 
understand  you  to  say  that  you  claim  a  loss  under  the  policies,  and,  if  so, 
in  what  amount?" 

Isidor  rubbed  his  hands,  and  said,  "Mr.  Bird,  we've  lost  twenty 
thousand,  if  we've  lost  a  dollar;  but  I  don't  want  to  be  hard  on  the 
companies.  I'll  say  sixteen  thousand,  and  we'll  never  take  a  cent  less." 

Bird  laughed.  He  had  such  a  genial,  pleasant  way  with  him  that,  by 
this  time,  Isidor,  Moritz,  the  other  adjusters  and  myself  had  clustered 
around  as  if  we  were  drawn  to  him  something  like  iron  filings  to  a 
magnet. 

"Where  is  the  loss?"  he  asked. 

"Where?"  shrieked  Isidor,  "Everywhere!" 

"Were  any  of  the  goods  burned,  Isidor?"  asked  Bird,  in  a  rich, 
mellow  tone,  and  added:  "You'll  excuse  my  familiar  way  of  talking; 
I'm  from  Connecticut,  you  know." 

"That's  right,"  was  the  reply,  "call  me  Isidor.  None  of  the  goods 
were  burned  ;  but  look  at  the  smoke !  the  stock  is  ruined." 

"  By  the  way,"  asked  Bird,  "do  you  use  gas  for  lighting  the  store?" 

"Nothing  but  gas,"  said  Isidor. 

Bird  smiled,  and  what  a  pleasant  smile  he  had. 

"Are  the  goods  blackened  or  discolored?"  asked  the  adjuster. 

"  Not  yet,"  said  Isidor ;  "it 's  the  odor — the  smell  of  smoke  all  through 
everything.  We  can't  sell  the  goods  for  ten  cents  on  the  dollar." 

"  What 's  the  value  of  your  stock?"  asked  Bird. 

"About  forty  thousand.  We  carry  a  big  stock  of  the  finest  kind  of 
goods,"  replied  Isidor. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1894  207 

"Then  the  damage  you  claim  is  a  smoke  damage?"  asked  the 
adjuster. 

"Yes !  "  said  Isidor,  "it's  a  smoke  damage  ;  they  all  say  that 's  the 
worst  kind  of  damage  to  clothing." 

"A  damage  from  the  odor;  from  the  smell  of  smoke  only?"  asked 
Bird. 

"Yes,  that 's  it;  the  goods  are  saturated  with  it." 

"  Did  you  open  the  store  and  let  the  smoke  out,  after  the  fire?  "  said 
the  adjuster. 

"No,"  said  Isidor. 

"  Did  you  put  the  goods  in  the  best  possible  condition,  as  required 
by  the  policies  ? ' ' 

"We  were  afraid  to  touch  them,"  said  Isidor. 

"Is  there  anything  in  the  policies  requiring  us  to  pay  anything 
because  there  has  been  the  smell  of  smoke  in  the  store? "  asked  Bird. 

"Isn't  there?"  said  Isidor. 

"No,"  answered  Bird,  "there  is  not;  there  is  no  liability  whatever." 

"And  don't  we  get  anything?"  said  Isidor,  turning  pale  and 
trembling. 

"Nothing  from  us,"  said  the  adjuster,  mildly  and  soothingly,  "not 
one  dollar." 

"We  '11  sue  the  companies !  "  shouted  Isidor. 

"  Listen  to  me, "  said  Bird;  "you  don't  understand  your  own  case. 
This  is  the  way  it  is:  You  claim  a  $40,000  stock;  you  have  about 
$20,000.  You  are  entitled  to  about  $15,000  insurance  on  your  present 
stock;  you  have  $29,000.  The  fire  was  started  in  two  places  in  the 
basement,  Sunday  night,  and  coal  oil  was  freely  used.  Your  lights  are 
gas;  you  don't  use  coal  oil  lamps.  Now,  I  '11  say  nothing  more  on  those 
points.  Next  comes  the  question  of  smoke  damage.  You  claim  a 
damage  from  the  smell  of  smoke  only.  A  little  smoke  benefits  clothing, 
and  will  kill  the  larvae  of  moths,  every  time.  Open  your  doors,  and  in 
three  hours  the  odor  will  disappear.  Now  is  the  opportunity  of  your  life. 
Advertise  a  fire  sale ;  throw  open  the  store,  and  in  the  next  two  weeks 
you  will  sell  two-thirds  of  your  stock  at  a  big  profit.  I  '11  tell  you  how  to 
to  it.  Get  signs  painted  on  cloth  ' ' — 

"They're  all  ready,"  interrupted  Isidor,  with  a  sheepish  smile,  as  he 
went  in  the  office  and  brought  out  several  bolts  of  sheeting  and  unrolled 
them,  on  which  were  painted,  in  large  red  letters : 


2o8  THE   KNAPSACK     1894 


"GREAT   FIRE  SALE! 
THE  INSURANCE  COMPANIES  HAVE  SETTLED!!'' 

IT   IS  THEIR   LOSS,  NOT  OURS ! ! 
THE  ENTIRE  STOCK  FOR  SALE 

AT  TWENTY  CENTS  ON  THE  DOLLAR  ! ! ! 


"That's  the  idea,"  said  Bird.  "  Your  fortune 's  made.  Now,  how 
about  our  expenses  ?  " 

"What!"  saidlsidor. 

"You  claimed  a  loss  when  there  was  none,  and  we  could  hold  you 
for  our  expenses,  but  let  it  go,  Isidor,  let  it  go.  Come  out  and  set  up 
the  cigars  for  the  crowd,  and  we  '11  call  it  square." 

And  Isidor  did. 

The  "  great  fire  sale"  began  next  day,  and  in  three  weeks  the  bulk 
of  the  stock  was  sold  at  a  large  profit.  The  firm  paid  their  debts,  banked 
the  surplus,  and  to-day  are  doing  the  largest  clothing  business  in  Pueblo. 

Moritz  asked  Isidor  why  he  did  not  hold  out  for  the  amount  of  his 
claim,  and  why  he  backed  down  so  quickly.  Isidor  answered:  "  Moritz, 
that  adjuster  was  born  in  Connecticut ;  he  was  on  to  the  coal  oil,  and  the 
policies  don't  say  anything  about  the  smell  of  smoke !  " 

"Isidor,"  said  Moritz,  "you  vos  yoost  right." 


AN  UNPRECEDENTED   SALVAGE. 

A  special  agent,  while  in  Utah  recently,  had  occasion  to  adjust  a  loss 
on  a  barn  and  the  contents,  including  some  horses,  the  latter  being 
insured  for  $100  per  head,  some  three  years  previous.  Owing  to  the 
considerable  fall  in  the  value  of  live  stock,  the  adjuster  made  an  offer  to 
the  assured  of  $40  per  head.  After  some  little  controversy,  the  figures 
were  accepted  and  the  adjustment  closed.  The  next  day,  returning  to 
Salt  Lake,  the  special  in  question  observed  a  notice  in  the  daily  paper  to 
the  effect  that  an  auction  sale  of  horses  would  take  place  on  the  following 
day.  To  acquaint  himself  with  the  relative  market  value  of  these 
animals,  he  decided  to  attend  the  sale.  He  did  so,  and  was  surprised 
and  even  chagrined  to  observe  that  out  of  eighty  animals,  one  of  them 
brought  $10,  and  the  remaining  number  from  $1.75  to  $2  apiece.  He  did 
not  sleep  well  that  night,  realizing  how  inefficiently  he  had  served  his 
company  in  the  adjustment  of  the  day  previous.  However,  relying  upon 
the  adage  of  "  everything  comes  to  him  who  waits,"  he  took  note  of  this 
fact.  Within  a  week  a  similar  loss  took  place  and  he  was  wired  to 


THE   KNAPSACK     1894  209 


adjust.  Upon  examining  the  daily  report  he  found  that  the  policy 
covered  $1,500  on  the  barn  and  contents,  $600  of  which  was  placed  on  six 
head  of  horses,  with  a  loss  limit  of  $100.  Here  was  his  chance.  It  was 
an  excellent  opportunity  to  make  a  record  for  himself,  and  he  forthwith 
went  to  the  auctioneer  who  had  sold  the  animals,  obtaining  from  him  a 
certified  copy  of  the  sale  and  the  prices  obtained,  and,  so  as  to  fortify 
himself  doubly,  obtained  the  additional  signature  of  the  local  agents,  that 
this  was  true,  and  that  same  could  be  replaced  for  that  figure.  His  face 
beamed  with  smiles  as  he  soliloquized,  "While  it  is  possible  that  the 
entire  six  horses  are  burned,  it  is  more  than  probable  that  one  or  two  of 
them  have  been  saved.  My  salvage  will  be  unexampled  in  the  history  of 
adjustment."  He  got  on  the  train,  arrived  at  his  destination,  engaged  a 
team  and  drove  to  the  scene  of  the  fire.  The  barn  and  contents  were  a 
total  loss ;  the  horses  were  saved. 


SUCH  A  NICE  MAN,   TOO. 

From  a  social  point  of  view  we  look 

Upon  our  fellows,  kindly, 
And  to  their  business  vagaries, 

Close  friendship's  optics,  blindly; 
A  "manager"  we  may  detest, 

Whose  ways  are  dark  and  dreary, 
Yet  for  the  "man  "  have  friendly  thoughts, 

He 's  socially  so  cheery. 

CHORUS  (Slow  march  time) : 

Such  a  nice  man,  too,  such  a  real  nice  man, 
So  affable  and  full  of  information, 
All  who  know  him  must  admit, 
He  's  a  man  of  brains  and  wit, 
And  a  gentleman  of  spotless  reputation. 

He  says  he  won't,  and  yet  he  will, 

Give  rebate  should  he  like  to, 
Excess  commissions  also  pay, 

Through  tricks  ad  infinite. 
When  losses  come  he  stands  aloof, 

Lets  others  work  and  worry, 
But,  figures  made,  to  favor  gain, 

Pays  claimants  in  a  hurry. 


tHE   KNAPSACK     1894 


"There's  naught  in  this  great  world,"  he  boasts, 

"  Shall  stop  me  from  succeeding, 
I  '11  make  just  ev'ry  scoop  I  can, 

Repressing  conscience-pleading ; 
Thus  while  the  honest  dolts  plod  on, 

I  '11  soon  become  real  wealthy, 
Then  quick  retire  from  the  '  Cosmos  Fire, ' 
With  a  gold  reserve  quite  healthy." 

And  so  the  choicest  gilt-edged  risks 

Come  crowding  to  his  door, 
His  prem'ums  mounting  higher  up, 

His  morals  tumbling  lower, 
His  loss  ratio  quite  modest  is, 

His  adjustments  are  made  gratis, 
He  taps  his  massive  brow  and  says, 
"What  brain  as  this  one  great  is?" 

But  the  "  Eternal  Fire  "  (perpetual  plan) 

Does  business  somewhat  later, 
It's  "always  low  as  the  lowest  "  bait 

Will  "scoop  "  in  our  rebater. 
Then  sizzling  there,  his  sulphured  thoughts, 

Revert  to  cooler  creatures, 
To  the  snow-made  image  of  boyhood  days, 

With  frosty,  frigid  feature. 

That  image  clothed  in  coat  of  sleet, 

Till  ice  it  all  seemed  to  be, 
Like  all  creation  he  'd  like  to  change, 

With  that  creation,  may  be  ; 
But  he  's  struck  a  special  hazard  hot, 

Sans  sprinklers  automatic, 
A  "  fire '  '-man's  lot  he  'd  gladly  change 

For  an  ice  man,  more  phlegmatic. 

CHORUS  : 

Yes,  an  ice  man,  true,  just  a  real  nice  man, 

A  triumphant  work  of  childish  refrigeration, 
Though  with  sightless,  snow-ball  eye, 
And  a  mouth  that  couldn't  lie, 
Yet  better  far  than  sin's  incineration. 

CARPENTER. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1894  211 


ON   HER  SURROUNDINGS. 

WB.  FRENCH,  the  veteran  adjuster  and  flour  mill   expert  of 
o      Chicago,  tells  the  following  : 

The  loss  occurred   at  Joliet,  under  a   'Continental'  policy. 
The  assured  was  a  woman,  and  the  policy  read  : 

"  $i,ooo  on  her  two-story  frame  residence ;   and  $200  on  her  sur- 
roundings." 

I  settled  on  the  building,  and  then  asked  : 

"Madam,  what  are  your  surroundings?" 

"What  did  you  say,  sir?" 

"Your  surroundings,  madam,  what  are  they?" 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?    They  are  quite  as   good  as  yours,   I 
think." 

"No  offense,  madam  ;  please  read  your  policy." 

She  did  so,  and  then  said : 

"Excuse  me;  I  didn't  notice  the  wording.    Well,  sir,  what  are  my 
surroundings?"  she  asked  with  a  smile. 

I  replied:     "Ordinarily,    I   would   define  a  woman's  surroundings 
as  her  wearing  apparel." 

"What  I  thought  I  was  insuring,"  she  answered,  "was  against  loss 
on  the  trees  and  shrubbery  surrounding  my  residence." 

"All  right,"    I  said,  and  allowed  her  fifty  dollars'  damage  on  the 
shrubbery  and  trees. 

It  was  the  only  case  of  the  kind  I  ever  had,  but  I  think  I  made  a 
common  sense  adjustment. 


THE  adjuster  sent  the  old  man  to  the  notary  public  to  swear  to  his 
claim,  and  the  following  conversation  took  place  between  the  adjuster 
and  the  daughter : 

"  You  say  you  have  just  returned  from  abroad.  Howl  should  like 
to  have  been  there ;  and  where  did  you  visit,  may  I  ask?" 

" Our  travels  were  confined  principally  to  Ireland,"  she  responded, 
rather  naively. 

"Did  you  see  the  Blarney  Stone?"  he  queried. 

"Oh,  yes,"  was  her  quick  response. 

Whereupon  he  commenced  a  most  eloquent  dissertation  upon  that 
most  famous  object,  and  said  that  in  view  of  his  being  unable  to  kiss  that 
stone  himself  he  wished  to  do  so  by  proxy.  She  drew  back  with  aston- 
ishment, but  with  a  twinkling  eye  that  betokened  intelligence,  replied  : 

"Sir,  I  did  not  kiss  it;  I  simply  sat  on  it." 


THE   KNAPSACK     1894 
"THE  WOMAN'S  EXCHANGE." 

A  TRUE  STORY. 

TT  N  December  last  I  was  in  Denver,  the  prettiest  city  of  its  size  in  the 
11  United  States,  and  one  having  a  much  better  climate  than  San 
Francisco.  During  my  stay  there  Henry  J.  Lufkin,  our  agent  at 
Wagon  Wheel  Gap,  Colo.,  came  to  town  to  spend  some  of  his  commis- 
sions, and,  incidentally,  called  on  me. 

Mr.  Lufkin  is  one  of  those  genial,  whole-souled  gentlemen  indigenous 
to  Colorado;  is  popularly  called  "Hank,"  and  is  very  fond  of  a  practical 
joke. 

After  lunch  one  day,  Lufkin  and  I  were  taking  a  stroll  through  town 
and  chanced  to  pass  the  Cumberland  building  on  Stout  street,  on  the  first 
floor  of  which  is  the  "Woman's  Exchange,"  so  called,  consisting  of  a 
restaurant  and  a  supply  of  fancy  articles,  embroidered  penwipers,  tidies, 
lamp  mats,  canned  fruits,  cocoanut  cake,  custard  pies  and  other  feminine 
products,  all  on  sale  for  the  benefit  of  their  makers. 

"  Hank  "  gazed  on  the  numerous  signs  on  the  outside  of  the  build- 
ing, setting  forth  in  large  letters  the  name  of  the  association,  "Woman's 
Exchange,"  and  finally  burst  into  laughter  and  said:  "When  I  get  home 
I  'm  going  to  spring  a  joke  on  a  verdant  friend  of  mine  that  I  believe  will 
prove  a  good  one.  If  you  get  a  letter  from  one  James  B.  Ferguson 
referring  to  the  'Woman's  Exchange*  you  will  understand  what 
prompted  it." 

A  week  later  I  received  the  following : 

"WAGON  WHEEL  GAP,  Colo.,  December  13,  1893. 

"  Honored  Sir :  Billy  has  just  got  back  from  Denver  and  tells  me 
there's  a  'Woman's  Exchange'  in  your  town,  where  one  can  exchange 
his  wife  for  another  woman,  and  I  want  to  know  if  I  can  trade  my  wife, 
and  how  much  it  costs  to  do  it. 

"I  have  a  wife,  31  years  old,  a  blonde,  good  looker,  good  worker, 
and  can  play  '  After  the  Ball '  on  the  piano ;  but  the  altitude  is  too  high 
for  her,  and  besides,  this  town  is  too  slow  for  one  of  her  gait.  She  wants 
to  fly  high,  and  if  I  can  swap  her  off  for  some  good  girl  about  18  years 
old  I  would  like  to  do  it,  and  my  wife  would  like  the  scheme  herself. 

"  If  you  can  send  a  brunette  that  would  like  to  come  here  and  take 
her  place  I  '11  pay  her  expenses  and  introduce  her  to  the  best  society  and 
make  her  life  one  of  refined  pleasure. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1894 


"Send  me  her  photograph,  and  if  it  suits  me  I  will  go  down  and 
arrange  for  her  legal  transfer. 

"  Please  answer  by  return  mail. 

"  Respectfully, 

"JAMES  B.  FERGUSON. 

"P.  S.—  Maybe  Bill  is  lying  to  me,  and  if  so,  let  me  know,  and  I  will 
fix  him  so  he  will  lie  under  the  daisies  before  spring." 

I  was  afraid  to  reply,  and  to  this  day  don't  know    whether    Mr. 
Ferguson  succeeded  in  making  the  desired  trade. 


WHEN  THE   "SPECIALS"   COME  HOME. 

The  old  year  is  past  and  its  duties  are  done ; 

And  now  in  my  corner  I  sit  in  the  sun, 

And  dream  of  the  days  when  out  on  the  road 

I  thought  that  I  carried  a  wearying  load — 

When  I  wrestled  with  agents  to  get  in  our  coin, 

And  ate  as  I  could,  whether  chucksteak  or  loin. 

Still,  my  burdens  seem  hard,  though  no  longer  I  roam ; 

But  I  '11  lay  them  all  down 

When 

The 

Specials 

Come 

Home. 

They  are  coming  from  near ;  they  are  coming  from  far, 
And  are  sure  to  ride  in  on  the  best  palace  car. 
There's  a  smile  on  each  lip  and  a  flash  in  each  eye, 
As  if  none  among  them  could  ever  say  die. 
They  tone  up  the  office  with  cheer  and  with  hope, 
And  talk  in  as  certain  a  way  as  the  Pope. 
Their  knowledge  is  gleaned  from  no  musty  old  tome, 
And  we  all  learn  more 

When 

The 

Specials 

Come 

Home, 


214  THE    KNAPSACK     1894 


And  I  hope,  when  a  few  more  years  have  rolled  by, 
And  I  've  solved  the  grim  problem  that  all  must  try- 
When  the  fever  of  living  has  burned  out  at  last, 
And  my  memory  is  but  a  dim  dream  of  the  past — 
That  perhaps  in  eternity's  bright  sunrise — 
In  the  crystal  dephths  of  Paradise — 
I  shall  see  reflected  in  Heaven's  clear  dome 
The  shades  of  the  specials 

As 

They 

Come 

Home. 

P.  S. — I  'm  a  little  uncertain  about  the  general  agents. 


"  I  WANT  to  be  an  expert, 
And  with  the  experts  stand, 
With  my  forehead  full  of  figures, 
And  a  ledger  in  my  hand  ; 
And  when  I  've  totaled  up  a  loss 
With  much  of  mental  strain, 
Someone  will  coolly  rub  it  out 
And  get  it  wrong  again." 


THE   KNAPSACK      1895  2/5 


EDITORIAL,    1895.  GEO.   F.   GRANT. 


EDITORIAL. 

YOU  might  as  well  ask  me  to  fly  as  to  request  something  funny  for  the 
Knapsack  this  year,  if  that  something  requires  time.  I  need 
hardly  dwell  on  the  reason  why. 

This  is  a  serious  period,  this  fall  of  '94  and  spring  of  '95.  After 
many  years  of  mutual  understanding  we  were  all  at  once  happily 
engaged  in  the  most  formal  manner  in  general  and  specific  misunder- 
standing; whispers  became  commands,  and  rumors  grew  strong  as  words 
of  holy  writ.  I  say  happily  engaged,  for  to  judge  by  the  cheery  tone  and 
smiling  faces,  special  agents  found  the  prospect  of  a  fight  more  than 
pleasing,  and  if  they  did  not  reflect  the  manager  and  his  opinion  it  is  too 
bad.  The  Fire  Underwriters'  Association  of  the  Pacific  was  on  trial,  and 
if  it  had  failed  saltpetre  would  not  have  saved  the  business,  but  the  seeds 
sown  twenty  years  ago  come  October  were  deeply  rooted,  and  the  boys 
at  Virginia  City  in  1875  are  now  grave  and  reserved  men ;  the  spirit  of 
harmony  and  good  will,  of  mutual  advantage  by  associated  effort 
asserted  itself  in  the  hour  of  need  and  by  the  very  boys  who  learned  to 
know  and  trust  each  other  during  that  cold  thirty  days  of  adjustment  so 
long  ago,  they  were  able  to  meet  and  formulate  a  new  plan,  to  bury  the 
hatchet  and  smoke  the  pipe  of  peace.  It  was  a  great  feat  well  performed, 
and  I  congratulate  you,  each  one,  on  the  result.  I  am  not  the  keeper  of 
my  neighbor's  conscience,  nor  is  it  for  me  to  cast  stones  at  any  man ; 
but  by  the  power  vested  in  me  as  editor  of  the  Knapsack  I  say  unto  you, 
if  you  are  by  word  or  deed,  by  indirection  or  mental  reservation,  retard- 
ing the  progress  of  a  successful  and  profitable  insurance  business  on  this 
coast,  you  do  that  which,  enriching  nobody,  makes  you  a  marked  and 
shining  target  for  boys  now  growing  up  in  this  Association  to  fire  at ;  it  is 
like  tearing  down  with  no  intention  of  replacing  or  putting  the  gloss  of 
right  on  that  which  is  in  reality  wrong ;  it  is  sowing  seed  which  in  another 
twenty  years  may  bring  ruin. 

Perhaps  the  first  business  advice  to  have  weight  in  the  mind  of  the 
youth  was  expressed  in  the  familiar  line :  ' '  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard  ; 
consider  her  ways  and  be  wise."  Having  been  liberally  endowed  by 
nature  with  those  traits  and  attributes,  which  tend  to  enlist  sympathy 


216  THE   KNAPSACK      1895 


with  the  sluggard,  I  accepted  the  admonition  as  personal,  and  turned  my 
attention  to  the  ant.  The  first  specimen  was  found  in  the  sugar  barrel 
and  she  was  particularly  repulsive,  being  black  and  ugly,  and  divided  in 
the  middle  by  a  hair  line,  having  a  pudgy  ball  on  either  side ;  I  slew  her. 
Reposing  at  a  later  date  under  an  oaken  tree  in  a  green  meadow,  watch- 
ing milk-white  clouds  float  over  a  light  blue  sky,  I  again  found  the  ant, 
and  she  was  numerous.  When  found  she  was  within  my  trousers'  leg ;  I 
considered  her  seriously  and  changed  not  only  my  position  but  the 
trousers.  This  was  instinct.  Thus  far  I  had  not  that  wisdom  for  which 
I  yearned.  It  was  many  years  later,  in  the  town  of  Merced,  before  the 
full  force  of  the  proverb  was  demonstrated.  In  the  capacity  of  special 
agent,  I  visited  the  San  Joaquin  district  and  came  upon  the  ant  at  Merced. 
She  was  of  the  small  red  variety,  agile  and  strong.  In  great  numbers  she 
was  engaged  in  removing  a  pile  of  sand  from  one  side  of  the  walk  to  the 
other,  and  during  my  stay  at  Merced,  with  unremitting  zeal  she  struggled 
over  the  path  with  a  load  and  trotted  back  empty-handed  for  more. 
Meantime,  with  varied  step  and  gait,  the  villagers  passed  to  and  fro, 
representing  all  ages,  sexes  and  conditions  of  man,  and  the  point  which 
arrested  my  attention  and  caused  me  to  consider  the  ant  was  that  of 
destruction.  It  was  the  fate  of  some  to  die  beneath  the  tread  of  the 
passing  people,  but  the  survivers  kept  at  their  business  with  no  apparent 
cessation  or  delay,  and  the  advice  seemed  plain  enough:  "Go  to  the 
ant,  thou  sluggard ;  consider  her  ways,"  and  be  wise  enough  to  go  to 
work.  Enter  the  vineyard  in  the  morning  and  toil  until  night;  bear  the 
burden  and  heat  of  the  day  with  fortitude ;  be  thankful  that  the  brain  and 
muscle,  which  a  kind  Providence  has  given  you,  can  be  put  to  good  and 
everlasting  use ;  consider  the  ant  and  her  ways ;  keep  right  on  in  your 
work ;  take  little  or  no  time  for  your  meals ;  never  waste  the  precious 
moment  by  talk  with  your  neighbors,  for  is  not  the  working  ant  a  neuter, 
without  sex,  no  family  ties,  no  mating  season  ;  consider  her  ways  and  be 
wise ;  let  your  motto  be  business  first,  last  and  all  the  time.  The  male 
ant  has  wings  and  takes  a  "nuptial  flight,"  accompanied  by  the  female 
ant,  also  on  wings,  and  after  this  short  and  happy  example  to  the  unem- 
ployed the  male  ant  dies  and  the  female  ant  founds  a  new  colony  of  ants, 
a  large  percentage  being  neuters,  or  workers.  If  the  male  sluggard 
considers  the  ant  at  the  nuptial  flight  season  it  is  quite  likely  he  will  think 
it  wise  to  join  forces  with  a  congenial  female  sluggard.  But  at  Merced  I 
considered  another  matter— it  was  the  average  of  chance  in  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  ant  stepped  upon  by  the  passing  throng.  It  was  not  only 
possible  but  probable  that  many  of  these  ants  worked  all  day  on  the  path 
and  escaped  scot-free ;  some  were  maimed,  but  still  worked  on,  and  the 


THE   KNAPSACK     1895  *'7 


lesson  I  took  was  this  :  No  matter  what  threatens,  attend  to  your  own 
affairs ;  let  the  dread  and  doubt  and  fear,  the  apprehension  and  the 
borrowed  trouble  die  in  one  grave.  Give  fair  attention  and  honest 
measure  to  your  employer,  but  also  attend  to  the  wants  of  body  and 
mind,  that  health  and  temperance  may  follow  you  to  a  happy  home. 
You  will  feel  the  iron  heel  which  stamps  you  out  of  existence  all  in  due 
time,  and  perhaps  it  would  be  fair  to  twist  the  advice  to  read  :  Go  to  the 
ant,  thou  sluggard ;  consider  her  ways  and  be  otherwise. 


BY   AND   BY. 

The  weary  clerk  looked  up  from  his  book, 

As  the  ' '  special ' '  passed  him  by, 
And  he  gave  the  traveling  man  a  look, 

And  muttered,  with  a  sigh : 
"How  sleek  and  saucy  he  appears, 

How  cheerful  in  his  glance ; 
Of  creditors  he  has  no  fears, 

Who  lead  me  such  a  dance. 
He  thinks  that  he  is  fixed  for  life; 

Just  wait  and  see  me  try, 
I'll  get  his  place  without  much  strife; 

It  will  be  mine,  by  and  by. 

It  will  be  mine,  by  and  by, 

By  and  by ; 

It  will  be  mine,  by  and  by. 
In  just  about  two  years, 
He  will  have  cause  for  fears, 
It  will  be  mine,  by  and  by." 

The  manager  sat  in  his  easy  chair, 

And  pressed  a  little  bell ; 
The  "  special  "  tumbled  through  the  air, 

And,  hastening,  nearly  fell. 
The  manager  said :  "  Now,  take  the  train, 

And  travel  for  a  year, 
Whether  in  sunshine  or  in  rain, 

And  let  good  work  appear." 
The  "special"  started  on  his  way, 

With  a  satchel  in  each  hand, 


218  THE   KNAPSACK      1895 

And  as  he  traveled,  day  by  day, 

In  obedience  to  command, 
He  thought :  "  He  seems  to  have  a  cinch, 

His  job  is  very  fine ; 
But  wait  until  he  gets  the  '  pinch,' 

And  then  it  will  be  mine. 

It  will  be  mine,  by  and  by, 

By  and  by; 

It  will  be  mine,  by  and  by. 
I  '11  be  quiet  for  awhile, 
But,  pretty  soon,  I  '11  smile, 

It  will  be  mine,  by  and  by." 

The  Death  Angel  paused  in  his  flight  o'er  the  town, 

With  a  gloomy  air  and  severe, 
And,  as  he  marked  his  victims  down, 

He  said,  with  a  ghastly  sneer: 
"  It 's  really  funny  to  hear  them  talk, 

And  scheme  for  each  other's  place, 
While  I  am  ready  the  plans  to  balk 

Of  all  the  human  race. 
An  insect  has  more  sense  than  they, 

As  it  flutters  in  the  sun, 
For  it  enjoys  each  warming  ray, 

And  their  worry  is  never  done. 

They  will  be  mine,  by  and  by, 

By  and  by ; 

They  will  be  mine,  by  and  by ; 
I  will  shut  off  their  breath," 
Said  the  Angel  of  Death, 

"They  will  be  mine,  by  and  by." 

I  MET  a  local  agent  who  represented  our  worthy  President  in  an 
Oregon  town.  Said  he:  " I  am  surprised  to  find  that  my  manager,  far 
from  being  the  strict  churchman  I  had  supposed,  is  no  better  than  he 
should  be  ;  why,  he  is  actually  profane  in  correspondence,  and  that  I  hold 
to  be  inexcusable."  I  stopped  him  and  demanded  proof.  The  letter 
ran  something  like  this  :  "We  feel  that  it  is  high  time  to  hear  from  your 
agency.  We  find  on  looking  over  the  expiration  book  that  we  have  not 

had  a  D R  from  you   in  three  months.    This  worldly  agent  had 

construed  the  D  to  mean  dash  and  the  R  risk. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1895 


A  YOUNG  and  bashful  special  was  called  upon  to  adjust  a  loss  on 
" female  wearing  apparel"  belonging  to  a  plump  and  pleasing  young 
widow,  as  fair  as  a  June  apple,  and  whose  well-turned  foot  reminded  you 
of  Trilby's.  After  taking  down  a  list  of  opera  cloaks,  silk  and  satin 
dresses,  dresses  cut  square,  on  the  bias  and  gored  up  the  back,  dresses 
high  from  the  ground  and  low  from  the  ceiling,  he  came  at  last  to  that 
which  even  the  most  hardened  of  our  special  agents  return  in  their  proof  as 
"underwear";  but  this  poor,  timid,  bashful  special  (a  rara  avis  to  be 
sure)  was  aware  of  the  necessity  of  having  a  complete  list  of  everything, 
and  so  "corsets"  and  "chemises"  were  put  down,  and  his  voice 
weakened,  for  the  lady  looked  daggers,  as  he  said:  "Now,  madam,  I 
am  nearly  through ;  how  many  pairs  of  silk  stockings  did  you  say  were 
damaged?"  "Seven  pairs,  and  they  cost  me  $10.50  per  pair,  and  I  can't 
wear  them  again."  The  price  seemed  an  exaggeration  to  the  special, 
although  he  remembered  the  McKinley  tariff  had  just  gone  into  effect ;  so 
he  said  :  "They  come  high,  don't  they?  "  "No,"  said  the  lady,  fiercely; 
"not  any  higher  than  usual.  I  always  wear  mine  long."  This  flabber- 
gasted the  young  special,  and  he  decided  to  finish  the  adjustment  at  once, 
so  said,  "Please  let  me  see  your  stockings."  "Sir,"  said  the  lady,  "do 
you  dare."  This  settled  the  special,  but  not  the  loss.  Next  day  our 
plump  and  pleasing  widow  called  at  the  office  and  told  the  manager  that 
she  had  been  insulted ;  that  no  unmarried  man  had  the  right  to  ask  her 
such  questions,  smiling  sweetly  on  the  manager  the  while.  He  took  the 
adjustment  into  his  own  hands,  paying  more,  I  have  been  told,  than  if  a 
valued  policy  law  were  in  force. 


FROM  various  sources  the  following  has  been  sent  in,  but  as  no  two 
stories  are  quite  alike  I  take  the  liberty  of  an  original  version : 

One  day  a  telegraph  boy  brought  a  dispatch  from  a  remote  region, 
reading : 

"Large  losses  here  cause  general  congratulations;  your  office  has 
twelve  thousand  total."  Well,  I  thought,  that  is  candid,  to  say  the  least. 
I  know  times  are  hard  and  business  dull ;  I  also  have  a  feeling  of  uneasi- 
ness about  incendiarism,  and  from  the  tone  of  the  agent's  letters  heretofore 
I  somehow  felt  lack  of  confidence,  but  this  bare-faced  exultation  over  the 
prospect  of  a  cash  sale  to  insurance  companies  is  carrying  bad  practices 
quite  too  far.  It  transpired  in  due  time  that  an  error  had  been  made  in 
transmitting  the  message,  which  was  intended  to  read,  "Large  losses 
here  cause  general  conflagration,"  etc. 


220  THE   KNAPSACK     1895 


A  BRIGHT  young  agent  who  hails  from  the  Garden  City  thought  the 
compact  ought  not  to  charge  for  a  cement  chimney  which  was  not  in 
actual  use.  His  erudite  and  "strictly  in  line"  manager  told  him  the 
charge  must  be  made ;  that  as  long  as  the  chimney  remained,  even  if  it 
were  not  in  use,  a  charge  should  be  made,  and  that  the  only  way  to 
obtain  a  reduction  would  be  to  remove  the  chimney.  Nothing  daunted, 
this  bold  but  smooth-faced  youth,  whose  smile  reminds  you  of  your  best 
girl,  would  not  have  it,  so  he  wrote  out  the  following  endorsement: 
"Warranted  by  the  assured  that  the  cement  chimney  will  only  be  used 
during  the  life  of  the  policy  for  ventilation  purposes"  The  aforesaid 
manager,  who  loves  a  joke,  sent  the  endorsement  to  the  compact — and  it 
passed. 

IF  I  should  die  to-night 

And  you  should  come  to  my  cold  corpse  and  say, 
Weary  and  heartsick  o'er  my  lifeless  clay ; 

If  I  should  die  to-night 

And  you  should  come  in  deepest  grief  and  woe, 
And  say,  "  Here 's  that  ten  dollars  that  I  owe," 
I  might  arise  in  my  large  white  cravat 
And  say,  "What's  that?" 

If  I  should  die  to-night 

And  you  should  come  to  my  cold  corpse  and  kneel, 
Clasping  my  bier  to  show  the  grief  you  feel ; 

I  say  if  I  should  die  to-night, 
And  you  should  come  to  me  there  and  then, 
Just  even  hint  'bout  paying  me  that  ten, 
I  might  arise  the  while, 
But  I  'd  drop  dead  again. 


IT  WAS  a  small  town,  and  he  was  young,  but  earnest,  when  appointed 
local  agent.  He  soon  mastered  the  rate  book  and  insured  his  brother's 
stock.  The  brother  strongly  objected  to  the  high  rate  and  produced  last 
year's  policy.  It  was  no  use,  rules  are  rules  and  the  minimum  rate  book 
contained  these  words : 

Rate  on  building  1.60 

Rate  on  contents  1.80 

The  total  of  these  figures  is  3.40,  and  the  brother  had  to  pay  that  rate,  or 
fight— and  he  paid. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1895  221 


A  NEVADA  ADJUSTMENT. 

SOME  say  special  work  is  hard  and  that  experience  is  necessary  for 
success  in  that  line.  I  made  my  first  trip  last  week,  wrote  up 
some  new  business,  adjusted  a  loss  and  found  it  easy.  I  suppose 
there  is  a  difference  in  men,  but  I  'm  a  student.  I  've  read  the  rate  books 
from  One  to  Four,  and  all  of  the  Pacific  Insurance  Union  circulars, 
including  those  that  didn't  go.  I  know  "Lowden's"  Adjustment  of 
Book  Losses  by  heart,  and  have  studied  the  Kinne  Rule  over  and  over, 
but  O !  I  hope  I  will  never  have  to  adjust  a  loss  where  the  policies  don't 
read  alike.  If  there 's  anything  in  Tiffany,  Griswold  or  Hine  I  'm  not 
posted  on,  it  must  be  in  later  editions  than  mine.  I  've  even  read  the 
Otey  Manual  clear  through,  including  the  dedication  and  diagrams.  So, 
when  the  manager  called  me  up  from  the  supply  department  and  started 
me  on  a  special  trip,  I  was  sure  I  'd  succeed  because  I  had  the  theory 
down  fine  and  all  I  had  to  do  was  to  apply  it.  I  didn't  travel  far,  but  I 
may  go  out  again  next  summer  and  stay  longer. 

First  I  went  to  Elko,  arriving  there  January  3d.  Agent  Jones  gave 
me  $2,000  on  the  "Diamond  Hotel."  On  the  fifth  the  hotel  burned. 
That  was  too  bad,  for  it  set  a  splendid  table.  I  don't  know  why  they 
did  not  get  me  to  adjust  that  loss. 

Then  I  went  to  Be-owa-we  and  took  the  stage  for  Weeping  Water 
station,  30  miles  west.  There  I  appointed  J.  Wesley  Ferguson  agent. 
He  is  also  postmaster,  justice  of  the  peace,  notary  public,  stage  agent, 
express  agent,  and  has  a  cattle  range  of  3,700  acres  near  the  station.  I 
insured  his  dwelling  house  and  showed  him  how  to  make  the  rate  under 
Book  4. 

"First,"  I  said,  "the  basis  is  seventy-five  cents." 

' '  As  low  as  that  ?  ' '  asked  the  new  agent. 

"  Yes ;  but  that's  on  each  hundred  dollars,  you  know." 

"All  right,"  said  Ferguson. 

"Then  for  deficiencies  we  add  seventy-five  cents." 

"What's  that  for?" 

"Isn't  there  an  old  silk  hat  stuck  through  a  broken  window  up 
stairs?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  you  can  see  by  the  book  that  we  have  to  charge  seventy-five 
cents  for  a  stovepipe  through  the  side,  window  or  roof. ' ' 

"Correct,"  said  Ferguson. 

"Now  for  the  exposure  charges." 

"The  dwelling  stands  alone,"  said  the  agent;  "there's  no  other 
building  nearer  than  two  miles  east,  where  I  have  a  wooden  house 


222  THE   KNAPSACK      1895 


occupied  by  the  men  at  the  round-up  station,  and  west  three  miles  I  have 
a  cattle  barn." 

"Hold  on,"  said  I,  pleasantly  ;  "  we  must  go  by  the  book.  For  frame 
dwelling  house  situate  two  miles  east  of  said  dwelling,  on  said  ranch, 
fifty  cents,  and  for  frame  private  barn  situate  on  said  ranch  three  miles 
west,  fifty  cents." 

"Are  they  exposures  when  they  are  so  far  away  ?  "  asked  the  agent. 

"Well,"  I  answered,  "to  be  fair  and  square  with  you,  I  don't  think 
them  very  dangerous,  even  in  a  strong  wind,  but  we  have  to  charge  for 
them  just  the  same,  for  the  rule  says :  '  Charge  for  every  other  building 
in  the  range.'  " 

' '  That 's  all  right, ' '  said  Ferguson.     ' '  I  see  you  know  your  business. ' ' 

"Any  objections  to  my  adding  the  'adjuster's  clause'  ?  "  I  asked. 

"No,"  he  replied,  "everything  goes.  You  're  pretty  good  on  addi- 
tion, old  man  ;  add  anything  you  want. ' ' 

So  I  wrote  $2,000  on  his  dwelling  for  five  years,  annual  rate  two  and 
a  half,  term  rate  seven  and  a  half,  premium  $150,  and  then  went  to  Reno, 
where  I  made  my  first  adjustment.  The  policy  covered  $500  on  a  frame 
dwelling  house,  $300  on  household  furniture  and  $200  on  one  violin. 

The  assured  was  a  professional  musician,  well  known  in  Reno,  a 
distinguished  violinist,  and  appeared  to  be  a  man  of  superior  education. 
Everything  checked  up  all  right  until  I  came  to  the  violin. 

"Professor,"  I  said,  "that  must  have  been  a  fine  fiddle  of  yours  to 
have  had  $200  insurance  on  it.  Where  did  you  buy  it?" 

"It  was  left  to  me  by  my  father,"  he  replied,  and  the  tears  came  to 
his  eyes.  "  It  had  been  in  our  family  for  many  years." 

When  he  said  this  I  knew  I  had  him,  but  I  never  changed  countenance, 
and  continued  ;  ' '  What  did  you  value  it  at  ?  " 

"It  was  priceless.  I  refused  $4,000  for  it.  It  was  insured  for  a 
trifling  sum,  for  I  never  expected  a  fire." 

"What  make  was  it?'" 

"A  genuine  Stradivarius,  and  was  inscribed  'Antonius  Stradivarius 
Faciebat,  Cremona,  1771'." 

' '  Who  was  Faciebat  ?  "  I  asked.     ' '  One  of  the  firm  ? ' ' 

He  looked  at  me  wearily  and  answered,  "Faciebat  is  Latin  for  'he 
made  it.'  The  violin  was  made  by  the  great  Stradivarius  at  Cremona, 
Italy,  in  1771." 

"In  1771  and  this  is  1895.  Then  it  was  a  hundred  and  twenty-four 
years  old,  and  we  supposed  we  were  insuring  a  new,  first-class  violin. 
Of  course  you  don't  make  any  claim  on  that  item,  professor?  " 

"Why  not?" 

"Look  here,"  said  I;  "See  what  Tiffany  says;"  and  I  pulled  the 


THE   KNAPSACK      1895  223 


book  on  him.  ' '  Musical  instruments  depreciate  annually  5  per  cent.  You 
can  figure  the  depreciation  yourself,  professor.  A  hundred  and  twenty- 
four  years  at  five  per  cent,  a  year  leaves  no  value,  and  Griswold  says : 
'Where  there  's  no  value  there  's  no  liability'." 

"  But  " —  said  the  professor, 

"Tiffany,"  said  I— 

"D — n  your  Tiffany  and  Griswold,  too,"  said  the  professor;  "was 
there  ever  such  an  idiot?  " 

"Do  you  mean  me?"  said  I. 

"Never  mind,  sir,"  he  replied,  "I  '11  write  to  the  company." 

"Very  well,"  I  answered,  and  left  him.     But  I  never  understood 
why  the  company  finally  paid  him  a  total  loss. 

E.  NILES. 


THE   SUPPRESSED  VERSION. 

(Not  allowed   to  be  sung  in  San  Francisco.) 

There  was  once  a  simple  agent  came  to  'Frisco  on  a  trip, 
When  the  Compact  rates  were  split  right  up  the  back ; 
His  cheek  was  still  unhardened,  he  'd  a  smile  upon  his  lip, 
Though  the  Compact  rates  were  split  right  up  the  back. 
When  he  landed  at  the  ferry  he  took  a  little  stroll, 
And  he  met  a  nervous  manager  who  had  lost  his  self-control ; 
Said  he  :  "The  news  is  awful.    Why,  bless  your  verdant  soul, 
The  Compact  Rates  are  split  right  up  the  back." 

But,  oh  dear,  he  doesn't  look  the  same ; 

When  he  left  Milpitas  he  was  shy, 
But  alas,  and  alack,  he's  gone  back 
With  a  naughty  little  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

He  walked  up  town  with  a  twist  upon  his  face, 

For  the  Compact  rates  were  split  right  up  the  back  ; 

It  was  hard  to  hold  his  morals  in  their  customary  place, 

For  the  Compact  rates  were  split  right  up  the  back. 

Of  course  he  knew  his  manners,  he  'd  been  taught  to  be  polite, 

So  when  asked,  "Hem,  cut  rates?"  he  said,  "Hem,  all  right. 

I'm  a  stranger  in  the  city,  but  at  home  I '11  try  to  fight, 

While  the  Compact  rates  are  split  right  up  the  back." 


224  THE   KNAPSACK     1895 


He  took  his  arm  in  confidence,  he  liked  his  pleasant  ways, 

While  the  Compact  rates  were  split  right  up  the  back ; 

And  as  he  passed  the  offices  he  stared  in  great  amaze, 

For  the  Compact  rates  were  split  right  up  the  back. 

He  asked  on  what  the  cut  would  go,  the  answer  was  "good  biz," 

Then  he  took  him  into  Collins'  and  treated  him  to  fizz ; 

Said  he,  "I  think  it 's  nicer  than  a  glass  of  milk,  it  is, 

Though  the  Compact  rates  were  split  right  up  the  back." 

They  drank  until  the  artless  man  so  very  weary  grew, 
While  the  Compact  rates  were  split  right  up  the  back ; 
That  a  six  per  centum  rate  was  dwindled  down  to  two, 
For  the  Compact  rates  were  split  right  up  the  back. 
Then  silently  he  left  the  town  and  took  the  evening  train 
And  wrote  up  hay  barns  at  a  rate  that  gave  the  office  pain, 
Said  he,  "They'll  never  catch  me  with  their  Compact  again, 
For  the  Compact  rates  are  split  right  up  the  back." 

But,  oh  dear,  he  doesn't  act  the  same ; 

When  he  left  Milpitas  he  was  shy, 
But  alas,  and  alack,  he  went  back 
With  a  naughty  little  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

E.    NILES. 


A  WELL-KNOWN  broker  in  a  city  not  far  distant,  and  whom  we  will 
call  Long,  for  short,  called  upon  a  certain  manager,  who  is  known  for 
his  suavity  of  manner,  and  offered  a  line  of  insurance  upon  a  "glucose 
factory,"  which  risk  was  on  the  "prohibited  list"  of  the  aforesaid 
manager.  The  manager  declined  the  risk,  but  the  broker  persisted,  and 
said:  "  You  know  there  is  no  'moral  hazard'  in  connection  with  this 
risk" — naming  the  gentleman  connected  with  it.  The  manager  said: 
"  We  are  aware  of  that  and  our  objection  goes  to  the  '  physical  hazard.'  " 
The  broker  replied  :  "  I  fear  you  are  mistaken  ;  have  you  ever  inspected 
the  property  ? "  "No,"  said  the  manager,  "but  such  risks  are  physically 
poor."  "You  are  mistaken  in  this,"  said  the  broker,  "for  I  have  made 
a  personal  inspection  of  it,  and  you  ought  to  see  the  great,  big,  strong 
men  working  there ;  their  arms  were  bare  and  their  muscles  stood  out 
like  whip-cords,  and  their  broad  chests  and  powerful  limbs  were  superb. 
I  never  saw  men  better  made  physically.  I  am  certain  you  would  change 
your  opinion  about  the  ' physical  hazard'  if  you  could  see  these  men." 
The  manager  smiled,  but  had  strength  enough  left  to  decline  the  risk. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1895  225 


A   DETECTIVE   STORY. 

I  HOPE  I  am  not  over  confident  of  my  own  power  of  discernment,  and 
no  one  has  ever  accused  me  of  undue  egotism,  but  I  feel  sure  if  I 
were  not  a  special  agent  I  would  be  a  detective.  I  pride  myself  on 
my  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  my  ability  to  see  the  motives  of  men 
at  a  glance.  This  was  in  a  measure  demonstrated  at  the  large  fire  at 
Traver,  and  I  have  given  the  subject  of  one  particular  loss  a  good  deal  of 
thought  since  then,  and  I  think  I  have  gained  knowledge  of  great  value 
both  to  a  special  and  a  detective.  The  facts  are  these :  One  night,  or 
rather  morning,  for  it  was  about  2  o'clock  A.  M.,  after  a  long  sitting  with 
a  claimant  I  went  into  the  cool  air  for  the  purpose  of  refreshing  myself 
preparatory  to  sleep.  I  was  drowsily  smoking,  when  all  at  once  1  saw  a 
dark  shadow  moving  along  the  street  in  a  noiseless  and  apparently 
stealthy  way.  With  equal  caution  I  followed.  It  proved  to  be  a  man, 
and  he  went  with  great  care  and  precision  to  the  rear  of  a  building 
situated  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  burned  district,  let  himself  into  the  back 
door  by  means  of  a  key,  fastened  the  door,  lighted  a  candle  and  with 
deliberate  action  put  a  pile  of  rags  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  poured 
kerosene  over  them  from  a  convenient  can,  and  applied  a  match.  I  saw 
the  flames  burst  forth,  and  waiting  to  see  no  more  I  ran  at  once  to  the 
home  of  the  town  marshal ;  awakening  that  official  I  quickly  told  the 
story,  then  hastened  to  the  bedside  of  a  few ,  trusty  adjusters,  arousing 
them  also  to  action.  With  much  discretion  we  surrounded  the  store 
where  the  fire  had  been  started.  Through  the  shutters  we  could  still  see 
the  form  of  the  incendiary  feeding  the  flames.  The  marshal  had  no 
difficulty  in  recognizing  the  man  as  Alex  Wollenslagger,  of  the  firm  of 
Dagger  &  Wollenslagger,  and  it  was  well  known  they  were  claimants  by 
the  recent  loss.  After  a  council  of  war,  so  to  speak,  the  marshal  beat  a 
loud  tattoo  on  the  front  door,  at  the  same  time  calling  upon  the  incendi- 
ary by  name  to  come  out,  and  be  d d  to  him.  This  had  the  desired 

effect,  and  Wollenslagger  came  forth.  He  was  the  coolest  villian  I 
thought  I  had  ever  seen.  He  had  the  obsequious  air  of  a  counter-jumper, 
and  the  accent  which  is  a  dead  give-away.  He  invited  us  inside  with 
much  apparent  hospitality,  and  his  eye  never  blinked  nor  did  his  color 
once  change.  This,  thought  I,  is  the  most  hardened  scoundrel  ever 
caught  red-handed.  Finally,  the  marshal  recovered  from  his  temporary 
stupor  and  made  his  arrest,  naming  all  the  damaging  evidence  in  our 
possession  and  the  eye  witnesses  to  the  crime.  "That  is  all  right,"  said 
Wollenslagger;  "  I  settles  my  loss  with  the  Royal  Insurance  Company 
yesterday,  and  I  gets  ready  for  a  schmoke  damage  and  a  cash  sale 
to-morrow."  The  adjuster  of  the  Royal  was  still  in  town  and  confirmed 


226  THE    KNAPSACK      1895 


Wollenslagger's  story.    The  smoke  was  an  after  thought  to  influence 
trade. 


I   DIDN'T   THINK  HE'D  DO  IT;    BUT  HE   DID. 
As  sung  by  E.  W.  CARPENTER. 

[A  very  much  resigned  ex-company  manager.] 

The  world  is  full  of  people  who  are  always  on  the  bluff, 

And  you  meet  them — ev'ry  where. 
In  our  underwriting  business  we  've  found  many  that  are  tough, 

Hardly  ever — on  the  square. 
I  had  an  old-time  customer  whose  rate  was  boosted  higher ; 

He  "kicked"  and  said  insurance  was  "no  good." 
I  jokingly  suggested  he  could  square  accounts  by  fire  ; 

To  tell  the  truth  I  didn't  think  he  would. 

CHORUS  : 

I  didn't  think  he  'd  do  it,  but  he  did,  did,  did  ; 

He  said  he  always  knew  it,  and  he  did. 

He  beat  me  "  by  a  scratch," 

With  his  auburn-headed  match ; 

I  didn't  think  he'd  do  it,  but  he  did. 

Though  proof  was  really  lacking,  I  accused  him  of  the  crime, 

Said  I'd  land  him — in  the  jail, 
And  I  quoted  court  decisions  from  the  early  English  time, 

In  a  way  that — made  him  quail, 
But  finally  suggested  that  I  might  not  prosecute, 

So  full  of  human  kindness  was  my  mood, 
If  for  one  dollar  full  receipt  he  'd  promptly  execute ; 

To  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't  think  he  would. 

CHORUS  : 

I  didn't  think  he'd  do  it,  but  he  did,  did,  did; 

He  wanted  to  get  through  it,  and  he  did. 

He  took  his  dollar  bright 

Then  briskly  skipped  from  sight, 

I  didn't  think  he  'd  do  it,  but  he  did. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1895  227 


I  trembling,  took  the  policies,  was  paralyzed  with  joy, 

But  recovered— very  quick, 
When  claimant's  many  creditors  quite  promptly  did  employ 

An  attorney— smart  and  slick, 
Who  "intimidation"  hinted  at,  and  prison  bars  "to  boot," 

Claimed  total  loss  in  manner  very  rude. 
I  told  him  I'd  receipts  in  full— he'd  better  bring  his  suit ; 

To  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't  think  he  would. 


CHORUS  : 

I  didn't  think  he'd  do  it,  but  he  did,  did,  did; 
He  told  me  that  I'd  rue  it,  and  I  did. 
On  the  judge  he  "had  the  call," 
Made  me  pay  claim,  costs  and  all, 
I  didn't  think  he'd  do  it,  but  he  did. 


Now  episodes  like  this  one  detract  sadly  from  the  bliss 

Underwriters — all  desire. 
But  when  thereto,  through  faith  less  fraud,  large  loads  of  acts  remiss, 

Are  by  themselves  piled  higher, 
I  was  so  much  disgusted  that  I  couldn't  help  but  tell 

(In  vernacular  so  plainly  understood), 

My  offices  I  "guessed"  I'd  quit — the  "biz"  could  go  to * 

(Spoken)  Well, 

Of  course,  you  know,  I  didn't  think  it  would.1 


CHORUS  : 


From  present  point  of  view,  it  seems  it  did,  did,  did ; 

For  something  happened  to  it,  yes  there  did, 

But  where  going  to  or  gone 

Is  too  deep  a  thought  for  song. 

I  didn't  think  'twould  do  it,  but  it  did. 


*  Considering  the  present  unsettled  condition  of  insurance  affairs  on  this  Coast 
(to  which,  as  a  whole,  and  not  to  the  "biz"  of  any  particular  office,  reference  is 
here  made)  the  writer  would  not  hazard  a  suggestion  as  to  the  locality,  and  the 
reader  can  (of  rhyme  regardless)  supply  the  omission  in  accordance  with  his  idea  of 
the  situation  as  seen  from  his  individual  point  of  view. 


228  THE   KNAPSACK     1895 


ONE  of  our  managers  has  a  family  of  beautiful  children.  They  were 
discussing  a  gentleman  friend  at  table,  when  the  little  daughter  asked, 
"What  is  a  bachelor?"  "Ugh,"  said  the  little  boy,  "anybody  knows 
that.  A  bachelor  is  a  man  whose  wife  does  not  wear  a  wedding  ring." 


"WAIT,   MR.   POSTMAN!" 

The  postman  was  late,  and  was  running  along, 
To  gather  the  letters  in  time, 

When  he  heard  a  gruff  voice  like  a  bull-frog's  song, 
Or  a  mellow-toned  cow-bell's  chime. 

CHORUS  : — 

"Wait,  Mr.  Postman,  don't  hurry  so  fast, 
Wait,  Mr.  Postman,  I  've  caught  you  at  last ; 
This  letter  must  go  in  the  mail  before  two, 
So  our  Oakland  agent  will  know  what  to  do, 
Wait,  Mr.  Postman,  please  bend  down  your  head, 
Wait,  Mr.  Postman,  the  compact 's  not  dead  ; 
Wait,  Mr.  Postman,  for  heaven's  sake  wait, 
Or  he'll  give  us  more  risks  at  a  deep-cut  rate." 


THE   NAUGHTY   MAN. 

By  R.  W.  OSBOBN,  as  sung  by  A.  M.  BROWN. 

(With  apologies  to  "The  Bogie  Man.") 

Come,  listen  to  my  song  to-night,  you  underwriters  all, 
I  '11  tell  you  'bout  the  naughty  man,  who's  bound  to  have  his  fall- 
He  joins  the  P.  I.  U.,  he  does,  the  rules  and  laws  he'll  scan, 
But  he  '11  not  keep  to  anything,  this  very  naughty  man. 

CHORUS  : 

Fie !  Fie !  Fie !  Oh,  what  a  naughty  man, 

To  join  the  P.  I.  U.  and  promise  everything  he  can; 

Just  look  there,  and  quickly  his  face  scan, 

And  tell  me  if  you  'd  think  him  such  an  awful  naughty  man. 


THE    KNAPSACK      1895  229 


He  goes  into  the  street  forthwith,  a  broker  for  to  catch, 
And  offers  twenty-five,  but  finds  the  other  quite  his  match ; 
He  offers  thirty,  thirty-five,  the  limit  of  his  plan — 
Another  takes  the  broker  from  this  very  naughty  man. 


[CHORUS  :] 


The  next  step  is  the  country,  there  an  agent  for  to  get, 
He  '11  not  stop  short  of  twenty-five  or  thirty,  you  can  bet ; 
To  drop  or  shelve  the  other  one  is  usually  his  plan, 
You  can't  find  out  so  very  much  about  this  naughty  man. 


[CHORUS  :] 

Then  comes  disruption,  threatened  so,  to  all  along  the  line.- 

The  organization  fails  to  cash  a  solitary  fine ; 

So  daily  do  the  members  meet  to  formulate  a  plan, 

To  check  the  work  and  damage  of  this  very  naughty  man. 

[CHORUS  :] 

Then  one  his  resignation  sends,  in  hopes  to  bear  good  fruit, 
When,  within  a  week  or  two,  so  many  follow  suit ; 
The  war  gets  warm,  and  each  man  sweats,  some  needing  much  a  fan, 
And  on  account  the  crooked  ways  of  this  very  naughty  man. 

[CHORUS  :] 

The  new  board  forms  and  to  the  sea  each  underwriter  went, 

To  discuss  the  ways  and  means,  the  naughty  things  we  must  prevent ; 

When  they  returned  quite  full  of  joy  at  a  perfected  plan, 

They  bid  good-bye  to  tricks  and  works  of  this  very  naughty  man. 

[CHORUS  :] 
LATER.    [POSSIBLY  A  LITTLE  PREMATURE.] 

The  war  is  fully  over  and  we  are  all  into  line, 
New  hope  springs  up,  bad  faith  no  more,  for  all  is  looking  fine ; 
Each  man  has  to  his  senses  come,  and  every  face  you  scan 
So  clearly  shows  from  this  time  on  there  is  no  naughty  man. 


230  THE   KNAPSACK     1895 


CHORUS  : 

Ha!  ha!  ha!  each  is  a  goody  man, 

To  join  hands  with  the  rest  of  us  to  do  the  good  he  can  ; 

Ha!  ha!  ha  !  just  try  each  face  to  scan, 

And  it  will  be  impossible  to  find  a  naughty  man. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1896  231 


EDITORIAL,  1896.  GEO.  F.  GRANT. 


EDITORIAL. 

IT  HAS  been  a  subject  of  comment  at  home  and  abroad  that  the 
insurance  people  of  the  Pacific  Coast  have  deliberately  thrown  away 
a  large  and  desirable  business.  It  reminds  us  of  the  man  who 
killed  the  goose  who  laid  the  golden  eggs. 

In  the  man's  case  it  was  curiosity  to  see  where  the  golden  eggs 
came  from ;  in  the  case  of  the  insurance  people  it  was  different. 

The  insurance  publications  of  New  York  and  Chicago  are  particu- 
larly satirical  and  facetious  in  their  comments  on  the  situation,  and  yet  it 
is  not  new  or  strange,  except  to  the  Pacific  Coast.  In  certain  districts 
in  the  East  there  is  a  mild  eruption,  with  more  or  less  feverish  action  all 
the  time. 

The  Pacific  Coast  has  been  for  many  years  unusually  prosperous, 
and  all  classes  thrived ;  money  came  to  all,  whether  in  or  out  of  the 
insurance  business.  When  I  say  of  the  Coast,  "It  has  been"  prosper- 
ous, that  very  nearly  tells  the  tale,  for  a  "has  been"  seldom  attains  a 
second  time,  so  far  as  fame  and  fortune  is  concerned,  a  position  where 
he  can  be  said  to  be  in  it,  or  of  it,  strictly  speaking. 

From  1875  to  1890  money  was  easy  to  get,  everybody  seemed  to 
have  enough  and  to  spare ;  "the  wave  of  prosperity"  seemed  to  be  ever 
at  the  flood.  In  insurance  business  we  thought  our  success  an  evidence 
of  superior  judgment  on  the  part  of  officers,  and  we  talked  freely  and 
learnedly  of  the  "science"  of  our  trade;  we  ranked  ourselves  with 
bankers  and  financial  agents,  and  plumed  ourselves  not  a  little  on  the 
keen  insight  into  human  nature  we  possessed  which  made  us  particularly 
fitted  for  our  dignified  and  scientific  calling.  In  1891  the  wave  of  pros- 
perity was  going  out,  but  we  heeded  it  not.  In  1892  we  felt  something, 
but  did  not  know  what  had  hit  us  ;  at  least  I  have  thus  far  failed  to  find 
the  man  who  claims  he  then  knew  what  has  since  been  shown  to  all. 
While  the  knowledge  of  the  advent  of  hard  times  was  slowly  filtering 
into  our  dull  minds,  we  were  irritable,  accusing  each  other,  trying  to 
fasten  the  blame  for  loss  of  business  on  the  Compact,  on  the  unprincipled 
agent,  and  on  the  lack  of  Faith,  Hope  and  Charity  in  our  associates,  and 
on  all  of  them,  irrespective  of  previous  reputation. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1896 


The  Compact  was  such  a  perfect  machine  that  it  took  the  place  of 
skilled  labor,  and  when  we  killed  the  Compact  we  were  obliged  to  exer- 
cise our  alleged  brains  (Heaven  save  the  mark!  ) — and  after  that  the 
cunning  instinct  which  dwells  more  or  less  with  every  man  was  aroused 
and  put  into  action.  Look  at  the  annual  figures  for  1895  and  read  the 
story ;  that  is  the  result  of  our  best  efforts  to  prove  our  eminent  and  unu- 
sual fitness  to  manage  the  affairs  of  an  insurance  office  during  hard  times. 
What  I  was  about  to  say  is  this:  When  "good  times"  return  we  will 
have  peace — I  mean  by  good  times,  general  prosperity.  When  money  is 
plenty  and  easy  to  get,  the  insurance  business  will  once  more  be  ranked 
as  a  science,  but  you  can  take  my  word  you  will  never  see  the  business 
as  it  has  been  on  the  Pacific  Coast. 

It  is  perhaps  needless  for  me  to  say  my  remarks  are  particularly  ad- 
dressed to  the  young  men  of  the  Association,  to  whom  the  "insurance 
war"  will  soon  be  but  a  part  of  history. 


THE  only  incident  I  remember,  said  the  quiet  member,  which  will 
be  at  all  appropriate  for  the  Knapsack,  occurred  many  years  ago  at 
Santa  Cruz.  The  town  was  small  and  the  stage  road  over  the  mountain 
was  inaccessible  in  the  winter  months.  There  was  no  telegraph  line,  and 
sometimes  the  people  waited  as  long  as  sixty  days  for  a  San  Francisco 
paper.  The  sea  also  was  rough,  and  steamers  could  not  land.  About 
this  time  the  town  folks  started  a  hose  company,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact 
it  was  more  of  a  salvage  corps  than  a  hose  company,  owing  to  the 
limited  supply  of  water.  Our  office  had  a  policy  in  the  contents  of  a 
boarding  and  lodging  house,  and  a  loss  was  reported.  The  assured  was 
a  quick-witted  but  uneducated  son  of  the  Emerald  Ise,  and  he  claimed 
"everything  in  sight,"  as  the  expression  goes. 

It  was  beyond  doubt  an  incendiary  fire,  and  started  in  the  corner  of 
the  sitting  room  down  stairs.  A  quick  alarm  was  given,  and  the  fire  boys 
not  content  with  putting  out  the  fire,  moved  all  the  furniture  on  the 
second  story  across  the  street  to  an  empty  building.  This  they  did  so 
carefully  that  no  damage  was  done,  and  only  the  bed  clothing  looked 
disturbed ;  the  sheets,  blankets  and  covers  were  tumbled  together,  but 
otherwise  uninjured.  I  went  over  the  ground  with  the  assured,  exercis- 
ing great  patience.  We  talked  of  the  origin  of  the  fire,  the  condition  of 
the  contract,  the  duty  of  the  assured  and  the  liability  of  the  company ; 
and  finally,  out  of  patience,  I  said,  "But  you  have  no  claim  here; 
nothing  is  destroyed."  "How  about  the  bed  clothes  ?  "  he  said.  "Why, 


THE    KNAPSACK      1896 


man,  it  is  only  necessary  to  wash  them."  "Wash  them,  is  it,"  he 
replied  ;  ' '  wash  them  ?  Don 't  you  know  it  damages  sheets  like  hell  to 
wash  them." 

EIGHT   WORD  POEM. 

Cut  rate, 

Long  trust; 
Big  line, 

Soon  bust. 


SONOMA  agents  claim  that  in  their  county  a  good  article  of  grape 
butter  is  made  by  churning  the  wine. 


SPECIAL,  spare  that  rate  ! 

O,  cut  it  not  in  half, 
Nor  anything  abate, 

Lest  customers  may  laugh, 
And  say,  with  a  broad  grin, 

"Aha,  we  told  you  so  ; 
They're  fighting  now  like  sin, 

And  we  will  have  a  show." 

Special,  spare  that  rate ! 

And  split  it  not  in  twain. 
For  years  it  sheltered  me, 

And  may  do  so  again  ; 
Swing  not  your  ready  axe, 

Draw  not  your  snickersnee ; 
Special,  spare  that  rate  ! 

If  you  would  happy  be. 

Special,  hold  that  rate! 

And  at  a  fair  price  sell, 
For  if  you  wildly  cut, 

The  rates  will  go  to — well ! 
They  're  sure  to  go  below 

A  figure  just  and  right ; 
Special,  spare  that  rate ! 

Nor  send  it  "  out  of  sight." 


THE   KNAPSACK      1896 


"SOUT  O'    MARKET." 

AT  DE  time  of  de  big  fire,  sout'  o'  Market,  last  June,  I  had  me  room 
at  Mrs.  Muldoon's,  on  Freelon  street,  near  Fourt.'  De  old  gal 
had  tree  hundred  insurance ;  two  hundred  on  her  furniture  and 
one  hundred  on  her  pianny.  De  nex'  morning  after  de  fire  she  gives 
me  de  policy  and  says : 

"  Mickey"  (me  name's  Michael,  but  dey  calls  me  Mickey  fer  short), 
"Ye  goes  down  to  de  office  and  ye  brings  me  de  tree  hundred,  fer  I 
needs  it,"  she  says. 

"Well,  all  right>"  I  says,  and  I  goes  to  de  office. 

I  goes  in — it  was  a  dandy  office,  wid  de  prettiest  gal  I  ever  see  in 
one  corner  tumping  hell's  delight  out  of  a  pocket  pianny — I  tought  it 
was — but  dere's  a  pal  o'  mine  on  Jessie  street  dat  knows ;  he  told  me 
afterwards  it  was  a  type  rider;  and  a  four-eyed  dude  steps  up  to  de 
counter,  and  he  says  right  off,  hot  from  de  bat : 

"Well,  young  feller,  \votyou  want?" 

Say,  I  ain't  no  fool,  if  I  never  had  no  edoocation  'cept  dat  night 
school  at  de  Lincoln,  and  I  sees  right  off  he  was  no  good. 

"  Where  's  de  main  guy  ?  "  I  says. 

"Who?^  'he  says. 

"  De  foreman;  de  man  wot  writes  de  policies.  Dere  was  a  fire  at 
Muldoon's.  Say,  de  poor  woman  wants  tree  hundred,"  and  I  trew  down 
de  paper.  "Does  she  get  it?  She's  a  poor,  hard-workin'  woman. 
She  says  her  beads  reg'lar  an'  she  needs  de  dough." 

De  dude  stepped  into  a  room  wid  glass  around  it  and  den  comes  out 
and  says:  "Dis  way,  sir,  if  ye  please;"  jest  like  dat;  smoot'  as  dose 
butter  cakes  at  Dennett's. 

I  goes  in  an'  dere  was  anodder  dude  wid  his  Sunday  cloze  on,  but  a 
pleasant  feller,  and  he  says :  "  Wot's  yer  name,  sir  ? " 

''Michael  Free." 

He  says  :  "Mr.  Free,  are  ye  square?" 

"On  de  roof,"  I  says;  but  say,  ye  could  have  knocked  me  down 
wid  a  fedder. 

"Ye  roomed  at  Muldoon's?  " 

"Dat's  wot  I  did." 

"Look  here,  Mr.  Free,"  he  says,  "you  know  what  Mrs.  Muldoon 
lost  ?  We  gives  her  every  cart-wheel  she  loses— dat 's  all.  Did  she  lose 
three  hundred  ?  " 

"Nit,"  I  says. 

"Did  de  pianny  burn?  " 

"Naw,"  I  says. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1896  235 

"Mr.  Free,"  he  says,  "  you  goes  and  settles  dat  loss  and  I  pays  you. 
Look  out  for  depreecyashun." 

"  Is  dat  de  dude  wid  de  blinkers?" 

He  laughed. 

4 'Mr.  Free,"  he  says,  "what  did  dat  suit  o'  han'-me-downs  cost 
you?" 

"Nine  plunkers  at  Roos's,"  I  says. 

"  Wot  are  dey  wort  now  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Maybe  tree  dollars,"  I  said. 

"Dat's  depreecyashun"  he  says.    Say,  I  caught  on  in  a  minit. 

Well,  I  goes  and  settles  wid  de  old  woman.  I  tells  her  nottin'  goes 
on  de  pianny  cos  it  didn't  burn.  She  kicked  a  little,  but  not  much.  Den 
I  figgered  de  furniture.  Say,  I  know  every  second-hand  joint  on  Mission 
street  where  she  got  it.  De  lot  cost  her  a  hundred  and  sixty-six.  Den  I 
says : 

"  Dere's  eighty-tree  dollars  off  for  depreecyashun" — 

"Fat  de  divil's  dat,  Mickey?"  said  she. 

"Dat's  de  wear  and  tear,"  I  says. 

"Holy  Saint  Bridget,  how  much  does  I  get?"  says  she. 

"  Eighty-tree  dollars,  net,"  says  I. 

"  Is  it  net  or  nit,  Mickey?"  says  she. 

O,  she  was  a  funny  old  gal;  she  'd  joke  on  her  deaf  bed. 

"Hurry,  quick,  Mickey,"  says  she;  run,  ye  divil,  to  de  office  and  get 
me  de  eighty-tree  dollars  before  ye  spring  any  more  Frinch  words  on 
me." 

Dey  coughed  up  de  dough  all  right,  den  de  foreman  says : 

"Mickey,  yere  a  fine  adjooster ;  how  much  does  we  owe  you?" 

"Well,"  I  says,  "I  makes  two  cases  a  day  when  I  works  at  de 
foundry.  I  works  on  dis  half  a  day  ;  dat's  one  iron  dollar." 

Say,  he  gave  me  a  big  twenty,  and  now  I  cleans  de  office  and  maybe 
I  goes  on  de  road  next  year  in  Alameda  county.  De  old  gal  bought  four 
hundred  dollars  wort'  of  new  furniture  on  de  installment  plan,  and  I  says  : 

"Say,  does  we  give  you  tree  hundred  insurance?" 

" Naw"  says  she,  "I  insures  for  what  I  gits.  You  tell  'em  to  make 
de  paper  for  eighty-tree  dollars,  divil  a  cent  more." 

And  so  de  old  gal  gets  a  policy  for  eighty-tree. 

Say,  if  dere  's  any  more  fires  sout'  o'  Market,  let  me  figger  on  de 
props.  Leave  word  at  de  Caffy  Royal.  I  gits  a  steam  beer  dere  ev'ry 
noon. 

E.  NILES. 


236  THE   KNAPSACK      1896 


A   CRIPPLE   CREEK   ADJUSTMENT. 

IT  WAS,  perhaps,  the  most  remarkable  adjustment  on  record.  I  have 
had  a  tolerable  experience  in  that  line,  but  never  heard  of  a  similar 
case.  It  seems  almost  incredible,  and  might  not  be  believed  if  it 
were  not  for  the  fact  that  such  well-known  insurance  men  as  Charlie 
Wilson,  Fred  Buck  and  D.  C.  Packard  of  Denver,  W.  S.  Mclntyre  of 
Colorado  Springs,  and  John  H.  Kirtland  of  Pueblo,  know  the  facts  in  the 
case  and  will  bear  witness  to  the  truth  of  this  plain,  unvarnished  state- 
ment. Verily,  truth  is  more  wonderful  than  romance!  To  think  that 
Cripple  Creek,  with  its  golden  flow  of  increasing  millions,  took  its  start 
from  the  burning  of  an  adobe  dwelling  house,  on  which  there  was  an 
insurance  of  but  five  hundred  dollars!  It  sounds  like  one  of  those 
glittering  tales  from  the  Arabian  Nights,  and  recalls  the  marvelous 
adventures  that  occurred  in  the  days  of  the  good  Haroun  Al  Raschid. 

There  are  many  San  Francisco  insurance  men  who  knew  James  W. 
Ferguson  when  he  was  special  agent  and  adjuster  for  the  old  "  Concordia  " 
(that  wasn't  it 's  name,  but  those  who  know  the  writer  will  remember  the 
company  well),  and  who  know  him  now  as  one  of  the  multi-millionaires 
of  Colorado.  Cripple  Creek  and  he  both  boomed  after  that  adobe 
dwelling  burned.  Pshaw  !  when  I  think  of  the  many  millions  that  little 
fire  developed  I  have  no  patience  with  my  humdrum  life,  and  its  petty 
economies. 

"Jim"  Ferguson,  as  we  called  him,  now  divides  his  time  between 
Chicago  and  Denver.  He  is  a  large  holder  of  choice  inside  property  at 
Denver,  and  in  Chicago  is  best  known  by  the  magnificent  Ferguson  block 
on  Adams  street,  a  seventeen  story  office  building  of  marble  and  steel. 
It  was  there  that  I  met  him  last  December  when  he  told  me  the  simple 
story  of  his  great  good  luck.  He  said : 

"Five  years  ago  I  was  at  Denver  as  special  agent  for  the  'Concordia' 
of  San  Francisco.  While  there  the  company  wired  me  to  proceed  to 
Fremont  and  adjust  a  supposed  total  loss  of  $500  on  an  adobe  dwelling 
house  owned  by  one  Jose  de  La  Guerra.  The  risk  had  been  written  by 
Mclntyre  and  Hayden,  our  agents  at  Colorado  Springs,  from  which 
Fremont  was  distant  eighteen  miles  as  the  crow  flies,  or  about  twenty- 
eight  miles  by  road.  To  be  brief,  I  made  the  adjustment,  found  the 
assured  a  gentleman,  the  loss  straight,  and  everything  satisfactory. 

"  While  waiting  for  my  team  to  be  brought  up  to  take  me  back  to 
the  Springs,  I  carelessly  looked  through  the  debris  of  the  burned  adobe, 
and  on  kicking  one  of  the  crumbling  slabs  with  my  foot  was  surprised  to 
see  it  filled  with  glittering  particles.  'Pyrites  of  iron,'  was  my  first 
thought ;  my  next  was  '  gold  ! '  I  decided  to  take  no  chances,  and  before 


7 'HE   KNAPSACK      1896  237 


starting  secured  the  assured's  stipulation  to  the  effect  that  he  relinquished 
all  claim  to  the  debris.  I  filled  a  salt  sack  with  a  sample  of  the  adobe 
and  went  straight  to  Denver.  The  assayer  at  the  Grant  Smelter  was  an 
old  friend  and  gave  me  a  quick  assay  which  showed  that  the  dirt  went 
$93,000  to  the  ton  in  gold.  I  hastened  back,  sacked  the  entire  lot  and 
shipped  it  to  Denver.  The  net  returns  were  something  over  $43,000, 
some  of  the  dirt  being  very  rich  and  some  poor,  but  the  average  was 
good. 

"I  sent  the  proceeds  to  the  company,  which  immediately  declared  a 
five  dollar  dividend  and  the  stock  jumped  from  $87  to  $105.  The 
secretary  acknowledged  receipt  of  my  report  of  the  salvage  and  its 
accompanying  draft,  and  referred  to  my  action  as  being  somewhat 
irregular,  but  on  the  whole,  acceptable.  This  I  thought  cold,  so  I 
resigned.  Then  I  hunted  up  De  La  Guerra,  and  bought  for  $500  a  two- 
thirds  interest  in  ten  acres  which  he  owned  at  Fremont,  on  a  part  of  which 
the  adobe  bricks  had  been  made,  started  in  placer  mining  there,  and  in 
six  weeks  we  cleaned  up  $93,666,  of  which  my  share  was  exactly  $62,444. 
This  rich  ground,  as  everybody  knows  who  has  been  at  Cripple  Creek, 
as  Fremont  is  now  called,  was  immediately  back  of  where  the  Palace 
Hotel  on  Main  street  now  stands. 

"Then  the  town  began  to  boom.  I  put  down  six  shafts  and  struck 
it  rich  in  five  of  them.  One  of  them  proved  barren,  the  '  Independence,' 
and  I  sold  it  to  Stratton,  a  poor  devil  of  a  carpenter  who  came  over  from 
Colorado  Springs,  for  $250,  and  told  him  to  pay  me  if  he  ever  struck  it. 
Two  months  after,  he  '  struck  it '  all  right,  and  to-day  is  the  richest  mine- 
owner  at  Cripple.  He  takes  out  half  a  million  a  month  from  the 
'Independence,'  and  has  a  standing  offer  of  ten  millions  for  it.  Maybe 
he  isn't  a  good  friend  of  mine!  Well,  that's  all  there  is  to  it.  Lucky, 
wasn't  I?  Let's  have  a  small  bottle  or  two." 

E.   NILES. 


A  GOOD  friend  who  loves  to  indulge  in  metaphor  was  speaking  of 
local  agents.  Said  he:  "You  go  to  work  and  build  a  man  up  from  the 
ground,  and  along  comes  a  big  fish  and  swallows  him,  and  you  lose  the 
premium  it  has  taken  years  to  nurse  to  life." 

Question  in  Application :  ' '  Have  you  personally  inspected  the  risk 
inside  and  out?" 

Agents'  Answer:   "  From  the  outside  only." 

N.  B. — The  subject  of  insurance  was  a  stack  of  hay. 


238  THE    KNAPSACK     1896 

THE  companies'  fears  for  the  future  are  like  those  of  the  honest 
German  who  was  overheard  talking  to  his  dog : 

"Mein  dog,  dere  is  a  great  difference  from  me  und  you.  You  play 
all  day,  but  I  haf  to  vork  all  de  vile.  You  youst  have  fun.  Veil,  de 
time  vill  gome  already  ven  you  haf  to  die,  and  den  dot  is  de  end  of  you. 
But  it  is  different  mid  me.  I  have  to  go  to  hell  yet  already." 


FOUND  IN  A  PALACE   CAR. 

One  calm,  consoling  thought 

Conies  to  me  o'er  and  o'er, 
When  riding  on  the  rail 

Is  something  of  a  bore  ; 
When  stages  are  upset, 

And  steamboats  make  rne  ill, 
This  thought  relieves  my  pain : 

The  office  pays  the  bill. 

When  letters  criticise, 

And  make  me  rather  tired  ; 
When  they  become  so  wise, 

Somebody  should  be  fired  ; 
When  agents  fail  to  pay, 

And  give  the  "hard  times  fill," 
I  keep  my  even  way ; 

The  office  pays  the  bill. 

That  tranquilizing  thought 

Steals  o  'er  me  night  and  day ; 
I  have  no  board  to  square, 

I  have  no  rent  to  pay ; 
No  creditors  can  come 

My  peace  of  mind  to  kill ; 
Expenses  are  charged  up  : 

The  office  pays  the  bill. 


AT  THE  midsummer  jinks  last  season  one  of  the  tents  caught  fire, 
and  the  occupant  lost  a  few  articles  of  clothing.  General  Barnes,  the 
well  known  legal  wit,  stated  that  the  insurance  adjuster  had  compromised 
the  loss.  He  convinced  the  claimant  that  the  trousers  burned  were  per. 
fectly  good  below  the  knee. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1896  239 


A  RESPECTED  agent  at  Healdsburg  writes:  "We  have  received  one 
of  those  'angel's  visits,  few  and  far  between,'  from  your  specialist." 

Query  (from  the  inside).  How  many  special  agents  are  either 
"angels"  or  "specialists";  and  if  they  were  either  one  or  the  other 
what  would  be  the  effect  on  the  insurance  business  to-day? 


OUR  supply  clerk  is  a  Swede.  He  attended  a  revival  meeting  re- 
cently. The  clergyman  asked  him:  "Peterson,  are  you  willing  to 
work  for  the  Lord  ? ' ' 

"Ae  don't  know,"  he  answered.  "Ae  got  a  good  yob  now.  Ae 
tank  ae  keep  dat." 


240  THE   KNAPSACK     1897 


EDITORIAL,  1897.  GEO.  F.  GRANT. 


EDITORIAL. 

THE  aim  and  object  of  the  Knapsack  is  to  promote  harmony  and 
good  will  within  the  Association,  and  board   or  no  board,  com- 
pact or  no  compact,  it  proposes  to  carry  out  its  object,  even  if  is 
necessary  to  kill  a  member  or  two.     There  is  good  in  everything,  even 
in   a   kicker,    and   there   is  sweetness   and   purity  in   everything  (when 
treated  chemically),  and   if  it  becomes  necessary  for  the  Knapsack  to 
cremate  a  fire  underwriter  of  the  Pacific,  please  understand  that  it  is  not 
for  the  fun  of  "  burning  him  up,"  but  for  the  purpose  of  purifying  him. 

It  is  claimed  by  some  that  the  Knapsack  is  not  run  for  profit — falla- 
cious sentiment.  It  has  profited  many  a  contributor,  and  this  year  brings 
Charlie  Hill  prominently  to  the  front  in  the  Association  with  his  admir- 
able paper  on  "The  Necessity  of  Revising  the  City  Tariff."  He  wrote 
the  same  article  in  a  condensed  form  for  last  year's  Knapsack,  and  it 
was  strangled  at  the  printer's  office  by  some  crank  and  never  saw  ink. 
That  was  a  good  thing  (for  Mr.  Hill),  and  whoever  did  it  gave  the  mem- 
bers the  pleasure  of  the  more  elaborate  paper  which  deserved  and  re- 
ceived so  much  favor  yesterday. 


THE  following  was  posted  on  a  little  church  at  Palestine,  a  colony 
near  Fresno: 

NOTICE. 

There  will  be  preaching  in  this  church,  Providence  permitting,  on 
Sunday  next,  and  there  will  also  be  preaching  here,  whether  or  no,  on 
the  Sunday  following,  upon  the  subject:  "He  that  believeth  and  is 
baptized  shall  be  saved,  and  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned"  at 
precisely  half  past  ten  in  the  morning. 


GIVE  THE   AGENT  A  CHANCE. 

Our  agent  writes :  I  shall  have  a  little  over  six  hundred  living  risks 
on  the  books  and  several  hundred  that  have  died  in  the  late  war.  With 
the  aid  of  a  tariff  and  a  few  compact  rules  I  think  I  can  raise  the  dead. 


T//£    KNAPSACK     1897  241 


RULES  OF  THE  GAME. 

TTNSURANCE  is  a  game.  It  can  be  played  by  two  or  more  persons, 
Ji  and  the  rules  differ  according  to  location. 

The  first  player  is  called  the  assured. 

The  prize  is  called  a  risk. 

The  stake  is  called  the  premium. 

The  second  player  is  called  the  insurer. 

The  betwixt  is  called  a  solicitor. 

The  between  is  called  an  adjuster. 

The  teetotum  is  called  journalism,  and  the  same  can  be  introduced 
into  the  game  at  discretion. 

The  assured  is  the  dealer  and  pays  out  chips,  each  player  receiving 
chips  according  to  the  rules ;  but  when  the  assured  runs  out  of  chips  a 
new  deal  can  be  demanded.  If  any  assured  refuses  to  pay  out  chips, 
when  in  the  game,  he  becomes  "red  slip,"  and  another  takes  his  place ; 
the  red  slip  cannot  again  enter  without  first  paying  a  forfeit ;  the  game 
terminates  when  the  last  assured  declares  himself  out  of  chips. 

The  risk  is  an  important  factor  in  the  game,  but  in  certain  localities 
it  is  considered  of  less  value  than  in  others.  A  cautious  player  endeav- 
ors to  secure  each  risk  singly,  but  if  one  is  playing  for  high  stakes  the 
object  is  to  possess  quickly  as  many  risks  as  possible ;  a  cautious  player, 
if  skillful,  can  often  obtain  a  better  result  in  the  long  run  by  single  risks 
with  less  danger  to  his  chips  ;  if  a  player  be  both  careless  and  unskillful, 
there  is  danger  that  he  may  be  absorbed  by  a  winner,  and  thus  lose  his 
place  in  the  game.  The  risks  should  be  in  plain  sight  of  the  players  at 
all  times. 

Each  player  can  select  one  or  more  betwixts,  according  to  rules 
agreed  upon  before  the  game  commences.  Each  player  stands  behind 
his  own  betwixt  and  pushes  him  forward  into  the  game.  When  a  be- 
twixt secures  a  risk  it  is  placed  to  the  credit  of  the  player  who  backs  him, 
and  the  assured  shall  pay  over  the  equivalent  in  chips. 

The  risk  is  said  to  be  good  when  the  "  between  "  can  find  no  flaw  in 
it,  but  if  a  player  accept  a  risk  as  good,  which  subsequently  proves  im- 
perfect, then  he  shall  pay  chips  to  the  assured.  If  it  is  a  fair  game  no 
player  will  know  in  advance  the  imperfect  risk,  but  he  shall  have  the 
privilege  of  inspecting  it  before  he  decides  to  take  it  in.  A  skillful 
player  learns  to  know  an  imperfect  risk  on  sight.  If  two  players  lay  hold 
of  the  same  risk  they  shall  be  allowed  to  pull  for  it,  and  he  who  has  the 
greater  pull  secures  it. 

There  can  be  many  other  rules,  but  it  is  a  very  pretty  game  as  it 
stands. 


THE  KNAPSACK    1897 


I  ENCLOSE  you  a  contribution  for  the  Knapsack,  written  by  a  personal 
friend,  who  says  the  name  "Palache"  haunted  him  for  five  years,  but 
that  now  he  had  eased  his  mind,  just  as  "Twain"  did  when  he  wrote 
"The  pink  trip  slip  for  a  three  cent  fare,"  etc. : 

AN   INSURANCE  IDYL. 

I  tell  you  a  tale  of  the  days  of  old, 
A  tale  that  has  never  yet  been  told, 

How  Whitney  Palache 

Killed  an  Apache. 

Kicking-Horse-with-the-mane-of-blue 
Had  a  Wampum  belt  and  a  wigwam  too ; 

So  Whitney  Palache 

Approached  the  Apache. 

' '  Pale-faced  stranger,  let  me  inquire 
What  happens  in  case  of  a  prairie  fire  ? ' ' 
Said  the  Apache 
To  Whitney  Palache. 

1 '  Pieces  of  silver  we  give  to  you 
For  your  Wampum  belt  and  your  wigwam  too ; ' ' 
So  Whitney  Palache 
Insured  the  Apache. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  in  a  year  and  a  day 
That  Whitney  Palache  was  going  that  way ; 

So  Whitney  Palache 

Addressed  the  Apache. 

"  Kicking-Horse,  this  day  am  I  come 
To  pick  up  the  annual  pre-mi-um  ! ' ' 
Then  the  Apache 
Looked  at  Palache. 

"  Better  run  off  for  fear  of  your  life, 
This  is  my  sharpest  scalping  knife ! ' ' 
Growled  the  Apache 
At  Whitney  Palache. 

"An  Injun  man  is  best  when  dead." 
This  was  all  that  Palache  said. 
Then  Whitney  Palache 
Smote  the  Apache. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1897  243 


FROM   CHICAGO. 

is  an  occasional  "happenstance"  in  this  sun-scorched  and 
11  blizzard-frozen  section  worthy  even  of  being  noted  in  the 
Knapsack.  We  sustained  a  loss  last  week  at  a  little  town  in 
Arkansas.  It  now  develops  that  the  dwelling  consumed  was  the  prop- 
erty of  a  negro.  It  appears  that  he  is  a  cook  and  secured  a  position 
in  a  neighboring  town  last  fall,  and  while  there  conceived  the  wisdom  of 
having  his  house  burn  up,  upon  which  he  had  sufficient  insurance  to  pay 
his  mortgage  and  interest  and  leave  him  $90.  He  therefore  wrote  his 
wife  a  letter  as  per  enclosed  copy.  The  letter  was  unclaimed  at  the  post- 
office,  and  as  he  had  used  an  envelope  of  his  employer  with  a  return  card 
in  the  corner,  the  letter  was  "Returned  to  writer."  This  darkey  having 
meantime  left  his  position,  the  letter  was  opened  by  his  former  employer, 
and  upon  its  contents  being  discovered  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  a 
prominent  attorney  in  the  town  where  the  darkey  lived,  and  thus 
reached  us. 

This  unworthy  follower  of  our  Lord  returned  to  his  home  and  carried 
out  his  own  instructions,  and  is  now  threatening  suit  to  enforce  recovery 
under  his  policy.  The  enclosed  is  an  exact  copy  of  the  original  letter, 
save  the  names : 

OSCEOLA,  Ark.,  9-27,  '96. 
Miss  RACHEL  SNOWBALL, 

Oskaloosa,  Ark.: — 

My  dear  wife  i  received  your  kind  letters  today  and  i  was  glad  to 
knoe  of  your  Being  well  but  i  am  not  well  i  Roat  you  3  letters  and  you 
say  you  have  not  goot  but  i  letter  from  me  i  don't  see  why  you  didn't 
get  my  Letters.  Love  i  want  you  to  burn  up  this  Letter,  i  think  you 
had  Better  let  the  house  get  Burnt  and  then  we  will  get  some  money  out 
of  it  i  think  that  is  the  Best  thing  to  do  But  you  get  the  things  all  out 
we  can  get  $90  and  we  can  Build  a  house  for  that  money  i  think  is  the 
Best  thing  to  do  it  Rite  now  and  you  let  me  knoe  you  Be  sure  and  Burn 
it  up  now  Love  you  Burn  the  house  up  Love  and  we  will  save  the  place 
But  if  you  dont  we  will  louse  it  you  be  sure  and  do  this  Love  i  want  to 
see  you  Rite  bad  i  dont  knoe  what  to  do  give  my  love  to  all  Love  i  am 
sick  Rite  now  But  i  am  at  work  yet  i  dont  no  what  with  myself.  Good 
Bye  i  will  close. 

Yours  in  christ 

GEO.  SNOWBALL. 


*44  THE   KNAPSACK      1897 

POOR  JO.  E.  O'SHADY. 

BY  R.  W.  OSBOBN. 

If  sung  to  the  tune  of  "  Sweet  Rosie  O'Grady  "  it  will  go. 

Not  far  away  from  where  I  do  insurance  as  a  trade, 
There  works  another  'surance  man  at  cutting  rates  I'm  'fraid ; 

He  has  a  knife  that  is  so  sharp  'twill  cut  him  to  the  bone ; 
Just  wait  until  you  hear  him  from  his  private  office  groan. 

CHORUS. 

Poor  Jo.  E.  O'Shady,  with  his  knife  so  sharp, 
Sings  his  song  of  "  cut  rate  "  unaided  by  the  harp  ; 

Grief  will  come  to  him  who  fails  to  clearly  see 
That  Jo.  E.  O'Shady  is  naughty,  naughty  as  Shady  can  be. 

—Repeat. 

This  same  man  he  does  not  care  how  deep  he'll  cut  the  rate ; 

His  company  stands  back  of  him  what  'ere  may  be  his  fate  ; 
So  you  can  see  that  on  the  street  a  mighty  man  is  he, 

To  name  the  figure  to  which  all  the  underwriters  flee. 

Chorus  and  repeat. 

O'Shady  does  not  stop  to  think  that  companies  have  souls  ; 

He  seems  to  feel  the  "situation  "  he  alone  controls  ; 
But  he  will  find  that  "  there  'r  others  "  that  do  likewise  have  the  nerve 

To  fight  and  cut  the  rates  of  all,  and  thus  their  companies  serve.  (?) 

Chorus. 

The  next  year  came  and  rates  went  down  still  lower  in  the  scale ; 

The  cutter  felt  his  nerve  give  way,  his  face  began  to  pale ; 
Letters  came  to  show  dissatisfaction  reigned  at  home ; 

That  Caesar  was  not  loved  the  less,  but  more  they  loved  their  Rome. 

Chorus. 

Like  Caesar  poor  O'Shady  lost  his  head  while  in  debate, 
Maintaining  his  position  with  the  president  sedate  ; 

Alas  !  the  Board  Directors  found  the  profits  were  not  there, 
And  passed  a  resolution  making  vacant  'Shady 's  chair. 

Chorus. 


AGENT  at  Milpitas  telegraphs:      "Small  loss  on  lumber.      Needs 
measuring.     Piles  non-concurrent.    Send  Kinne  rule." 


THE   KNAPSACK      1897  245 


HE  WAS  a  good  fellow,  a  traveling  special.  He  solicited  the  hotel 
risk  of  the  landlord  where  he  put  up  for  the  night.  Landlord  replied, 
"I  am  already  insured." 

4 '  What  rate  do  you  pay  ?  ' ' 

"Ten  per  cent." 

"Ten  per  cent. !  Why,  man,  you  are  being  robbed.  I  am  a  special 
agent,  with  power  to  appoint  agents,  write  policies  and  collect  premiums 
for  the  best  company  in  the  country,  the  Centaur  Company,  sir,  and  I 
tell  you  ten  per  cent,  is  highway  robbery.  Let  me  see  your  policies." 
(Landlord  brings  policies  and  exhibits  them,  the  Centaur  policy  appearing 
on  the  list.)  "  What 's  that,"  said  the  special,  "  the  Centaur?  That's  my 
company,  rate  ten  per  cent.  Well,  well,  I  must  examine  this  building; 
there  must  be  something  about  it  I  don't  understand."  He  examines 
the  building,  and  then  says  to  the  landlord : 

"I  am  a  special  agent  with  full  power  to  act,  and  I  tell  you,  land- 
lord, there  is  more  wood  in  this  building  than  in  any  building  of  its  size 
I  ever  saw.  The  rate  is  all  right,  sir ;  ten  per  cent,  is  a  fair  rate,  a  very 
fair  rate— considering  the  wood." 


ROCK-A-BY  Compact  on  the  tree-top, 
With  adequate  rules,  you  are  built  like  a  clock ; 

When  the  rules  break  the  Compact  will  fall, 
And  down  will  come  profit,  rates,  friendship  and  all. 

Hey  diddle,  diddle,  come  guess  me  this  riddle, 
Ye  managers  who  hope  to  stay  in. 
When  rates  are  so  low — loss  ratios  so  high, 
Where  does  the  home  office  come  in? 

Sing  a  song  of  low  rates,  managers  full  of  grit, 
Seven  and  sixty  companies,  net  profit — Nit ! 
When  the  annuals  are  opened  home  office  '11  begin  to  sing, 
1  Isn't  this  a  pretty  mess " — "Let 's  stop  this  sort  of  thing." 

Presidents  in  the  counting  room  looking  for  the  gain, 
Stockholders  sat  and  glowered,  swearing  might  and  main ; 
Manager,  far  away,  was  planning  how  to  spread, 
When  down  came  a  telegram  and  took  off  his  head. 


ONE  question  on  the  application  of  a  saloon  risk  was  answered  thus 
There  is  no  steam  in  the  building  except  what  is  in  the  beer," 


246  THE   KNAPSACK      1897 

A   PIETY   HILL  ADJUSTMENT. 

THE  policy  covered  $ i, 600  in  favor  of  Mary  J.  Riley,  "on  her  two- 
story  frame  dwelling  house  situate  on  the  north  side  of  Porphyry 
avenue,  between  Quartz  street  and  Bullion  ravine,  Piety  Hill, 
Nevada  county,  California."  The  building  burned  last  summer  and  an 
appraisement  was  entered  into  by  Adjuster  Anderson  for  the  company 
and  James  Trevathan  for  the  assured. 

Anderson  is  a  well-fed,  warm-faced  man  of  cheerful  address,  bold, 
shrewd  and  courteous. 

Trevathan  is  a  Cornish  carpenter  who  sequesters  himself,  and  makes 
lump  estimates  by  some  long,  mysterious  process  of  wrestling  with  the 
lower  mathematics.  He  is  inclined  to  be  stubborn,  but  is  open  to 
reason.  Being  of  slow  thought  and  speech,  he  is  susceptible  to  the  quick 
action  of  a  brighter  mind. 

The  efforts  of  the  appraisers  to  "come  together"  were  somewhat 
one-sided,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  following  : 

"Trevathan,"  said  Anderson,  "why  didn't  you  meet  me  here  this 
morning,  so  we  could  save  time  by  making  our  figures  together?  I  have 
nineteen  adjustments  on  hand ;  appointments  with  five  men  and  three 
women,  and  we  haven't  done  a  blamed  thing.  Say,  old  man,  what's  the 
matter?" 

"I  always  figure  alone,"  replied  Trevathan,  stolidly. 

"Well,"  continued  Anderson,  "  I  see  you  make  your  total  $1,650. 
Do  you  know,  I  thought  the  building  was  over-insured.  I'll  take  your 
figures  on  the  lumber,  but  there's  one  thing  I  must  say  before  we  go  on 
with  this.  I  want  to  do  just  what  is  right  and  give  Mrs.  Riley  every  dol- 
lar she  lost.  I  have  a  conscience  in  these  things,  and  you  know,  Trev- 
athan, we've  sworn  to  be  just  to  the  best  of  our  knowledge  and  belief, 
and  I  tell  you  frankly,  that  if  I  find  your  figures  are  too  low  on  any  item, 
ril  raise  ''em.  I  make  no  secret  of  this.  I  shall  do  it,  and  the  company 
will  have  to  stand  it.  Ain't  I  right,  eh?  " 

There  was  an  air  of  frank  good  fellowship  about  this  statement  that 
had  its  effect,  and  the  carpenter  at  once  assented  to  the  justice  of  the 
proposed  line  of  action. 

"And  what's  the  damage  for  nails?  "  airily  continued  Anderson. 

"Eighteen  dollars." 

"You  can't  build  that  house  with  eighteen  dollars'  worth  of  nails. 
It  wouldn't  hold  together.  We  musn't  rob  the  poor  woman.  I'm  going 
to  raise  that  to  twenty-five  dollars.  Isn't  that  right  ? ' ' 

Trevathan  thought  it  was. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1897 


"Now,  that's  the  way  to  do  business,"  said  Anderson.  "I  believe 
in  being  fair  and  liberal.  In  fact,  I  never  adjust  in  any  other  way. 
Maybe  we  won't  need  the  third  man.  What  next?  " 

"Carpenter  work,  three  hundred  dollars." 

"What!  " 

"I  make  labor  three  hundred,"  said  Trevathan. 

"  But  why  do  you  ?    My  estimate  is  a  hundred  and  fifty." 

No  answer. 

"How  do  you  make  it,  Trevathan?" 

"I  wouldn't  do  it  for  less,"  was  the  reply. 

"Well,  let's  hold  that  for  the  third  man;  but  before  we  pass  to  the 
next  item  I  want  to  tell  you  a  good  one  on  an  acquaintance  of  mine  at 
Anaconda.  He  was  going  to  get  married,  and  one  of  his  friends  started 
a  subscription  to  get  him  a  wedding  present.  Among  those  he  solicited 
was  an  employe  at  the  smelter,  who  gave  five  dollars,  and  asked 
what  the  gift  would  be.  '  We  thought  of  getting  him  something  useful 
as  well  as  ornamental,'  was  the  reply,  'and  have  about  decided  to  give 
him  a  silver-plated  chandelier.'  '  Don't  you  do  it,'  said  the  fellow  ear- 
nestly, '  there  isn't  a  man  in  town  can  play  on  it.'  Now,  how  many  doors 
and  windows  have  you?  " 

"Six  doors  and  eighteen  windows.  Eight  dollars  a  door  and  six- 
fifty  a  window." 

"Um-m — that's  steep.  I  can  get  the  doors  in  San  Francisco  for  five 
and  the  windows  for  four,  but,  of  course,  labor  's  high  here.  It  always 
is  in  mining  towns.  How  much  did  you  allow  for  the  work  on  the  doors 
and  windows?  " 

"  Two-fifty  a  door  and  two  dollars  a  window." 

"You're  high,  but  we  won't  fight  over  it.  I'll  accept  those  figures. 
Now,  let's  go  back  to  the  carpenter  work.  Does  your  item  of  three  hun- 
dred dollars  include  all  of  the  labor?" 

"Yes." 

' '  How  about  the  work  on  the  doors  and  windows  ? ' ' 

"Why,  er-r-r,  no,  it  doesn't  include  that." 

"My  dear  boy,  don't  you  see  you've  charged  twice  for  labor?  Now, 
while  I  know  the  work  on  the  house  ought  to  be  done  for  a  hundred  and 
fifty,  I'll  yield  a  point  there  and  be  liberal  with  you.  I'll  say  two  hun- 
dred. Is  that  right  ?" 

"Well,  yes,"  said  Trevathan. 

"Say,  did  you  ever  hear  this?"  said  Anderson.  "Referring  to  a 
suspicious  fire,  an  honest  citizen  of  hazy  ideas  was  asked  :  '  What  shall 
we  do  with  the  fire-bug  if  we  catch  him? '  '  Why,'  he  replied,  '  the  least 


248  THE   KNAPSACK     1897 


he  can  do  is  to  marry  the  girl !  '  That's  a  good  one,  isn't  it?  Now,  how 
much  for  painting?" 

"Hundred  and  fifty." 

"  Too  much.  Here's  an  estimate  of  ninety-three  dollars  from  Avery, 
Vandyke  &  D'Auber,  the  best  painters  in  town.  What  do  you  say?  " 

"They  can't  do  it  for  that." 

"But  they  will" 

"Then  let  it  go  at  their  figures,"  said  Trevathan. 

"I  see,"  said  Anderson,  "that  you've  left  out  an  important  item, 
and  I'm  going  to  put  it  in,  for  right 's  right.  I  may  lose  my  job,  but  I 
don't  care.  That's  the  gutter  on  the  roof— say  ten  dollars.  Am  I  right, 
eh?" 

"That's  so  ;  I  forgot  that,"  said  Trevathan. 

"  Next  comes  the  porch  ;  what's  your  figure  on  that?" 

"Eighty  dollars." 

"  By  the  gods,  old  man,  I  can1 1  stand  it ;  I  can't  stand  it!  "  said  An- 
derson, rising  from  his  chair  and  pacing  the  floor.  "My  estimate  is 
forty.  How  do  you  make  it  eighty  ?  ' ' 

"  I  would  n't  build  it  for  less  than  that." 

' '  But  how  do  you  figure  it  ? ' ' 

There  was  no  reply. 

Anderson  looked  reproachfully  at  the  carpenter  and  said  in  a  deep, 
mellow  voice:  "I  will  concede  at  the  start,  Mr.  Trevathan,  for  I  know 
you  are  a  builder  of  large  experience,  that  we  must  allow  something  for 
the  porch,  but  we  must  not  overlook  the  fact  that  most  of  it  is  standing, 
and  while  I  do  not  claim  that  it  is  as  good  as  it  was  before  the  fire,  still 
it  has  a  certain  value  as  a  porch,  and  just  what  this  is,  we  are  now  to  de- 
termine. At  a  later  period  we  will  consider  its  value  as  a  part  of  the 
daybree.  Now,  come  off  the  porch,  old  man  ;  shall  we  say  forty? " 

"No." 

"  I  won't  go  so  far  as  to  insist  that  the  porch  shall  be  left  standing 
and  the  house  built  against  it,  although  that  could  be  done.  Well,  say 
forty-five." 

"No,"  said  the  Cornishman. 

"I  won't  stand  more  than  fifty,"  said  Anderson,  "if  we  pass  it  to 
the  third  man;  but  I  tell  you  candidly,  Trevathan,  I  don't  believe  in 
making  any  more  expense  for  the  assured  than  is  absolutely  necessary. 
She  has  lost  enough  as  it  is.  Shall  we  make  it  fifty? " 

"Well,  call  it  fifty,"  said  the  carpenter. 

"  Now,  how  much  for  the  chimneys?" 

"There's  fifty  feet,"  said  Trevathan,  "  at  a  dollar  a  foot ;  that's  fifty 
dollars." 


THE    KNAPSACK     1897  249 


"Too  high,  my  boy,  too  high.  It  used  to  be  a  dollar  a  foot,  but  its 
six  bits  now.  But  let  it  go.  How  old  was  the  building?  " 

"Nine  years." 

"What's  the  depreciation?  "  asked  Anderson.  (And  here  it  may  be 
remarked  that  everything  depends  on  the  style  in  which  it  is  done.  It  is 
said  that  a  certain  great  actor  could  repeat  the  word  "Mesopotamia" 
with  such  exquisite  modulation  that  his  hearers  would  be  moved  to 
laughter  or  melted  to  tears.  The  elder  Booth's  rendition  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer  was  most  pathetic  ;  and  Anderson  has  the  same  gift  of  expression. 
His  measured  pronunciation  of  that  simple  word  "depreciation,"  and 
his  eloquent  exposition  of  its  true  meaning,  have  often  brought  deep  sad- 
ness to  many  sensitive  claimants.) 

"Depreciation,"  said  Trevathan,  "  was  there  any?  " 

"Certainly,"  replied  Anderson,  "the  difference  between  old  and 
new,  you  know." 

"Oh,"  said  the  carpenter,  "I  don't  think  there's  much  ;  not  more 
than  five  per  cent.,  anyway." 

"  You  're  'way  off  on  that ;  you  mean  twenty-five,  don't  you?  " 

"No,  five,"  repeated  Trevathan,  firmly. 

"Mr.  Trevathan,"  said  Anderson,  with  dignity  and  decision,  "I 
never  will  consent  to  anything  less  than  fifteen,  and  when  I  make  it  as 
low  as  that  I'm  taking  desperate  chances  of  losing  my  position.  The  ap- 
praisement may  go  in  at  five,  signed  by  you  and  the  third  man,  but  it 
never  will  have  my  signature  on  any  basis  less  than  fifteen  per  cent. 
Never!  so  help  me  God,  never!  There's  no  man  more  conscientious 
than  I  am,  and  you  must  remember  that  we  have  taken  a  solemn  oath  to 
do  our  duty  in  this  case,  and  if  my  experience  is  worth  anything  (and  I 
believe  I  know  my  business),  fifteen  per  cent,  is  less  than  the  damage  to 
the  house  by  the  action  of  the  elements,  its  occupancy  by  a  family, 
and  its  consequent  partial  disintegration  as  a  frame  structure.  Ain't  I 
right?" 

"Well,  call  it  fifteen,"  said  Trevathan. 

"  And  now,"  said  Anderson,  "we  have  but  one  item  left,  and  on  that 
I'm  sure  we  will  think  alike.  What  have  you  allowed  for  daybree  ?  " 

"For  what?" 

"For  daybree." 

"Mr.  Anderson,"  said  Trevathan,  cautiously,  "what's  your  opin- 
ion?" (Anderson,  by  the  way,  speaks  French  like  a  native,  and  gives 
the  true  Parisian  twist  to  all  words  borrowed  from  that  language.) 

' '  My  estimate  of  the  value  of  the  daybree  in  this  case  is  two  hundred 
dollars." 


250  THE   KNAPSACK     i897 

Trevathan  was  puzzled.  He  evidently  didn't  know  what  was  meant 
by  that  strange  word,  but  would  not  confess  his  ignorance.  After  a  long 
pause,  he  shook  his  head  gravely  and  said :  "I'll  leave  that  to  the 
third  man." 

"Before  we  do  that,"  said  Anderson,  "let  me  give  you  my  views. 
The  daybree,  comprising  the  framework  of  the  dwelling  left  standing,  the 
porch  and  the  chimneys,  amounts  to  fully  two  hundred  dollars." 

"Why,"  said  Trevathan,  pulling  himself  together,  "the  chimneys 
are  no  good;  the  bricks  are  damaged  by  the  fire." 

"If  they  could  be  hurt  by  fire,"  said  Anderson,  "why  do  they  use 
fire  when  they  burn  a  kiln  of  bricks  ?  Those  chimneys  are  better  than 
before  the  fire.  The  bricks  are  glazed  and  the  mortar  is  hardened.  If  I 
owned  that  property,  I  would  build  my  house  against  the  chimneys ; 
they  never  ought  to  come  down." 

"  I'll  say  twenty-five  dollars,"  said  Trevathan. 

"No,  sir,  that  wouldn't  be  fair  to  the  company.  I'm  willing  to  give 
and  take,  and  I  ask  you,  Mr.  Trevathan,  to  do  me  the  personal  favor, 
when  this  appraisement  is  closed,  to  tell  Mrs.  Riley  as  a  matter  of  justice 
to  me,  that  I  acted  fairly  and  without  prejudice,  and  I  believe  you  can 
honestly  say  that.  Now,  I'm  going  to  name  a  figure  on  the  daybree  that 
will  surprise  you.  I  will  say,  in  order  to  close  the  matter,  and  this  is  my 
lowest  figure, — seventy-five  dollars— there !  " 

"Well,  call  it  seventy-five,"  said  Trevathan,  with  an  air  of  fatigue. 

"And  now,  Trevathan,  I  will  make  the  footing.  The  total  is 
$1,121.93,  and  I  consider  that  a  good,  fair,  liberal  adjustment,  for  the 
building  was  over-insured  and  prices  are  lower  now.  Put  your  name 
right  there,  and  we  will  all  take  a  drink ;  but  before  doing  that,  I  will 
take  this  occasion  to  say  that  I  have  made  hundreds  of  adjustments  on 
building^  all  over  the  coast,  from  Victoria  to  San  Diego,  and  have  figured 
with  the  best  architects,  builders  and  carpenters,  and,  without  flattery,  I 
can  sincerely  say,  Trevathan,  I  never  met  your  equal !  " 

As  we  passed  out,  Trevathan  remarked :  "Mr.  Anderson,  you  said 
you  might  lose  your  position,  but  let  me  tell  you  one  thing — you  never 
will." 

Anderson  laughed  and  replied,  "The  trouble  with  me  is  that  I 'm  too 
tender-hearted.  I  sympathize  with  the  assured  and  it  wears  on  me. 
When  I  went  into  this  business  a  few  years  ago,  my  locks  were  as  black 
as  a  raven's  wing,  and  now  look  at  them."  He  raised  his  hat  and  showed 
a  fluffy  head  of  hair  as  fine  as  silk  and  as  white  as  snow. 

EDWARD   NILES. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1897  251 


THE  claim  was  on  a  two-story  brick  building ;  this  building  adjoined 
a  one-story  building,  and  the  latter  was  totally  consumed.  When  the 
two-story  building  was  put  up,  the  bricks  could  not  be  dressed  on  the 
outside  until  the  wall  reached  a  height  above  the  one-story  building. 
Claim  was  made  for  an  entire  wall,  and  to  this  day  the  owner  (an  estimable 
lady)  believes  that  the  heat  from  the  fire  melted  the  mortar  which  ran  out 
ro  m  between  the  bricks  of  her  building.  One  adjuster,  two  builders  and 
fhree  friends  of  the  family  failed  to  convince  her  to  the  contrary. 


REVERIES. 

BY  MAX  BERTHEATT. 

Melody:  "The  Sidewalks  of  New  York." 

Merrily  together  sits  a  jolly  crowd, 

Chatting,  drinking,  smoking ;  even  praising  loud, 

How  in  spite  of  hard  times  and  that  merry  war, 

They  are  getting  premiums— but  don't  ask  how  big  they  are. 

Eastern,  home  and  foreign  companies, 

They  all  are  cutting  down  the  rates  as  well  as  salaries. 

Five-cent  lunches  are  now  for  the  boys  a  treat, 

While  the  managers  find  a  place  for  fifteen  cents  to  eat. 

All  of  us  are  weary,  though  some  won't  admit 

That  its  surely  'bout  the  time  when  fighting  should  be  quit. 

Some  we  hear  still  boasting  of  last  year's  result, 

Showing  in  their  statement  what  amount  of  biz  they  held, 

And  with  all  that  say  they  always  showed 

The  best  intentions  for  a  Union— but  there  is  a  road 

Leading  from  this  world,  far  away  from  here, 

Paved  with  good  intentions.    Let  us  hope  they  won't  go  there. 

(With  Apologies.} 

California's  record  in  the  days  of  old 

Showed  the  yearly  premiums  to  be  seven  millions  gold  ; 

But  the  last  year's  statement  up  to  the  thirty-first, 

It  showed  not  quite  four  millions — for  the  P.  I.  U  had  burst. 

Cut  rates  don't  bring  premiums,  don't  you  see, 

It  is  the  same  thing  with  the  babes,  they  don't  grow  on  a  tree. 

Some  such  new  ideas,  Oh  !  let  them  be  blessed  ! 

As  in  either  case  the  "  Good  old  way  is  still  the  best !  " 


252  THE   KNAPSACK     1897 

"A  DREAM." 
My  Dear  Knapsack : 

T  DREAMED  I  was  standing  near  the  corner  of  California  and  Sansome 
11  streets  talking  with  George  Grant,  when  I  saw  the  ' '  Giant  of  my  child- 
hood," 20  feet  high,  10  feet  across  the  shoulders  and  one  eye  in  the 
center  of  his  forehead,  marching  along  Montgomery,  Pine,  Sansome  and 
California  streets  swinging  his  lo-foot  club,  and  knocking  insurance  men 
right  and  left ;  he  spared  none,  from  the  office  boy  to  the  President ;  all 
were  meat  that  came  under  his  club ;  he  swept  the  streets,  the  air  was 
full  of  hair,  the  sidewalks  were  ankle-deep  with  brains. 

As  he  passed  us  I  saw  following  him  a  "mob,"  "a  howling  mob," 
crying  out  "  Give  it  to  them!  "  "  Don't  spare  them  !  "  ''That  is  a  good 
one" — as  a  blow  from  his  club  sent  a  leading  manager's  hair  into  the 
air,  and  his  brains  over  a  half  acre  or  so  of  sidewalk.  "Go  it,  one  eye ! " 
"Bully  for  Cyclops!"  "  Bust  a  compact  again,  will  you?"  and  as  this 
mob  passed  us  (this  was  a  dream,  you  know)  I  said,  "George,  this  is 
dreadful."  He  said,  "Yes."  I  said  "Do  you  see  that  mob  stuboying 
that  fellow  on  ?"  He  said  "  Yes." 

I  saw,  in  the  front  ranks  of  that  mob,  numerous  agents  whose  princi- 
pal growl,  when  I  was  on  the  road,  was  the  tyranny  of  the  P.  I.  U. 
They  could  tell  how  they  could  hold  their  business  if  there  was  no  com- 
pact, how  J.  Jones  Knowitall,  whose  barn  was  as  good  as  a  dwelling, 
would  insure  said  barn,  if  he  could  get  a  fair  rate ;  and  a  lot  of  such  rot 
— you  have  all  heard  it. 

I  saw  in  the  next  rank  the  "special"  who  never  took  the  off  side, 
and  was  always  ready  to  side  in  with  the  growling  agent,  and  found  it 
easier  to  allow  five  per  cent,  or  so  in  postage  to  get  a  good  business  in  a 
big  agency,  than  to  build  up  a  fifteen  per  cent,  straight. 

I  saw  the  manager  whose  jealous  rivals  credited  his  success  in  getting 
the  best  business  in  an  agency  to  his  loyalty  to  rates  and  independence  of 
P.  I.  U.  rules. 

I  saw  a  strange  crowd  bringing  up  the  rear.  They  were  armed  with 
what  appeared  to  be  spears,  with  which  they  would  jab  at  the  hair  in  the 
air,  and  the  brains  on  the  sidewalk.  Upon  closer  view,  these  spears 
were  pens,  marked  Coast  Review,  Pacific  Underwriter,  Adjuster,  Sun, 
Monitor,  Standard,  and  others;  a  cloud  of  them  too  numerous  to 
mention. 

I  pointed  the  insurance  men  out  to  George,  and  asked  him  why  these 
old  ' '  manifest  bad  faithers ' '  were  so  prominent  and  so  noisy  in  that 
gang,  and  he  said  that  it  was  because  they  were  crooked ;  crooked  people 
can't  live  in  a  fair  fight,  and  are  the  first  to  squeal. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1897  253 

"Well,"  I  said,  "how  about  those  insurance  quill  drivers,  East  and 
West;  why  are  they  so  vicious,  ours  was  not  the  first  broken  compact?" 
He  said,  "No,  it  was  not;  but  you  know  that  when  good  people  fall 
from  grace  what  a  howl  society  makes  about  it,  while  a  common,  every- 
day sinner  can  go  right  along  in  his  evil  ways  without  creating  a  ripple. 
We  on  the  Coast  had  the  best  and  the  only  unanimous  compact  organiza- 
tion that  I  ever  heard  of ;  other  places  have  boards  and  unions,  but  inva- 
riably have  a  big  non-board,  or  non-union  element,  while  we  had  no 
non-boarders.  We  kept  up  this  compact  for  a  dozen  years  or  more  and 
made  money,  and  because  it  broke  down,  was  worn  out,  maybe,  we  are 
howled  at  worse  than  if  we  were  pirates,  and  while  we  are  bad  enough, 
we  do  not  deserve  the  kicks  we  get  from  people  who  live  in  glass  houses, 
and  who  should,  instead  of  making  matters  worse,  lend  a  helping  hand  to 
reinstate  the  compact." 

I  said  "Yes;  but,  George!  how  do  you  account  for  the  work  going 
right  along!  insurance  men  moving  around  on  the  streets!  all,  from 
managers  to  office  boys,  at  their  regular  work,  and  still  their  blood  and 
brains  are  ankle-deep  on  the  side  walks?" 

"Oh,"  he  said,  "that  is  all  right,  Bill — the  business  is  running  with- 
out brains  nowadays." 

I  then  woke  up. 

SLANG. 

"Are  you  with  me?"  as  the  match  said  to  the  kerosene  oil  can. 
"  Holy  smoke !  "  as  the  zephyr  said  when  the  church  was  burning. 
"You  are  not  in  it,"  as  the  policy  said  to  the  acetylene  gas  permit. 
"  Drop  on  yourself,"  as  the  solicitor  said  to  the  detached  rate. 
"Go  off  and  die,"  as  the  annual  statement  said  to  the  closing  year. 


TO  THE  PURE,   ALL  THINGS  ARE   PURE. 

When  asked  if  the  stores  were  not  used  for  a  common  purpose,  he 
was  quite  indignant.  "No,  indeed,"  he  replied,  "the  tenant  is  a  most 
estimable  man  and  keeps  the  best  crockery  and  dry  goods  for  miles 
around ;  he  has  caused  arches  to  be  cut  between  the  rooms,  and 
personally  superintends  his  business." 

AFTER  the  last  earthquake  a  building  was  renewed  at  the  high  rate 
of  six  per  cent,  because  it  had  a  "  shake  roof." 


254  THE   KNAPSACK     1897 


KILLING  NO   MURDER. 

IN   THREE   ROUNDS   AND   A  WIND-UP. 

Round  i. 

HE  heart  of  Waldorf  Quigley  swelled  beneath  his  vest  as  he  rode  away 
from  the  broad  acres  of  JabezL.  Hay  ward,  situate  ten  miles  due  north 
of  the  bustling  town  of  La  Grande,  in  the  Grand  Ronde  Valley, 
Oregon. 

And  Quigley  deserved  success. 

At  the  early  age  of  sixteen  he  decided  to  play  a  lone  hand,  and  he 
played  it  boldly.  He  worked  his  way  through  the  Gervais,  Oregon, 
University,  graduated  with  honor,  and  immediately  went  with  the 
Farmers'  Mutual  of  Medford  as  special  agent.  With  that  company  he 
did  so  well  that  he  was  offered  a  similar  position  with  the  Eagle  of 
Hartford,  and  at  the  time  our  story  opens  he  had  just  secured  a  promise 
of  a  desirable  five  years'  ranch  risk  of  the  aforesaid  Hayward  (premium 
$525.75),  the  policy  to  be  written  and  delivered  within  two  weeks. 

And  Quigley  was  happy. 

One  word  about  our  hero.  He  had  industry,  confidence,  ability,  a 
clear  mind  in  a  sound  body  and  had  Heaven's  best  gift — good  nature. 
In  addition,  he  had  fine  magnetism  and  readily  made  friends  with  all 
kinds  of  people,  with  no  discrimination  against  sex. 

Round  2. 
(Ten  Days  Later.) 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Hayward,"  said  Pat  Hexton,  in  a  loud, 
ringing  voice,  as  he  alighted  in  front  of  Hayward's  barn;  "there  is  my 
card,  sir.  I  am  special  agent  for  the  Eagle  Insurance  Company  of 
Hoboken,  and  have  called  to  insure  you.  What  are  my  chances?" 

"First  class,"  replied  Hayward;  "your  man  Quigley  was  here,  and 
I  promised  to  give  my  insurance  to  the  Eagle — but  why  didn't  Quigley 
come  again  as  he  promised?" 

"Poor  Quigley,"  said  Hexton  (as  he  caught  on  like  a  flash)  drawing 
his  handkerchief  and  pressing  it  to  his  eyes ;  "poor  fellow." 

"  W-why,  what 's  the  matter?  "  asked  Hayward.     "  Is  he  sick  ?  ' ' 

"Worse  than  that ;  he's  dead." 

"You  don't  say  so.    That's  too  bad.     Kind  o'  sudden,  wa'n't  it?" 

"Very;  the  dear  boy  worked  too  hard;  nervous  prostration  and 
heart  failure.  What  a  funeral  we  gave  him !  I  found  a  memorandum 
about  your  insurance  among  his  papers.  The  widow  gets  the  commission 
on  your  premium,  every  cent  of  it.  Shall  I  write  it  up  ?  " 


THE   KNAPSACK     1897  255 

"Certainly;  I'll  give  you  two  hundred  down  and  a  note  for  the 
balance.  It's  a  doggoned  shame  that  Quigley  had  to  die.  I  liked  that 
young  fellow." 

Hexton  drew  a  blank  policy,  filled  it  up,  attached  a  non-cancellation 
clause,  accepted  the  money  and  a  note,  and  drove  away. 

Round  j. 
(Four  Days  Afterward.) 

"Are  you  there,  Mr.  Hayward?"  shouted  Quigley  at  the  barn  door. 
Down  from  the  hay  loft  came  the  honest  farmer  and  started  back  in 
horror  as  he  met  the  smiling  gaze  of  the  confident  young  special. 

' '  W-who  is  it— not  Quigley  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  sir;  here  I  am,  right  on  time;  and  here's  the  policy." 

"  Why,  ain't  you  dead?    Your  man  Hexton  said  you  was." 

"  Do  I  look  like  a  dead  man?  "  asked  the  astounded  Quigley. 

"N-no,"said  Hayward;  "but  I'm  doggoned  if  I  understand  it." 
Then  he  explained  and  showed  his  policy  in  the  Eagle  of  Hoboken. 

"My  company  is  the  Eagle  of  Hartford,"  said  Quigley. 

"  Sure  enough,"  said  Hayward  ;  "  what '11  we  do?  " 

There  was  nothing  could  be  done,  and  with  a  sad  heart  Waldorf 
Quigley  departed. 

Kind  hearer,  or  gentle  reader,  as  the  case  may  be,  this  story  has  one 
merit — it  is  true. 

THE  WIND-UP. 

In  this,  as  in  a  scrapping  match,  with  a  fair  referee,  the  better  man 
finally  wins. 

Pat  Hexton,  the  quick-witted  and  unscrupulous,  now  sells  sewing 
machines,  cash  registers  and  Dickenderfer  type-writers,  and  his  life  is 
filled  with  care. 

Waldorf  Quigley  is  the  coast  manager  for  the  Dublin,  Glasgow  & 
Sheffield  Assurance  Corporation,  and  draws  his  salary  every  month. 

There  is  a  good  moral  in  this  true  tale.  If  any  one  needs  it  he  is  at 
liberty  to  take  it. 


ONE  of  our  men  complained  about  the  office  horse.  Said  he,  "The 
beast  will  not  go  and  he  won't  stand  still;  you  can't  drive  him  straight, 
and  he  won't  turn  a  corner." 

"  Has  he  ever  attempted  to  roll  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Not  yet;  but  if  I  tell  him  not  to,  he  will  do  it  on  the  spot." 

"Cancel  and  re-issue,"  I  replied. 


256  THE    KNAPSACK      1897 


I  ONCE  received  a  report  on  a  small  town ;  with  one  exception  a 
most  flattering  report.  There  was  one  steam  fire  engine  of  modern 
make  ;  one  hose  wagon ;  one  thousand  feet  of  hose ;  a  paid  chief ;  twenty- 
five  volunteer  members  of  the  company,  and  steam  always  maintained  in 
the  boiler.  But  there  were  no  iron  mains,  no  hydrants,  no  cisterns,  and 
no  water,  except  for  domestic  use.  Investigation  folio  wed.  It  transpired 
that  the  merchants  of  the  town,  in  order  to  earn  a  reduction  in  rates,  had 
subscribed  and  purchased  the  material  of  the  fire  department,  and 
although  water  had  not  yet  been  introduced,  the  department  was  the 
principal  feature  of  the  Fourth  of  July  parade.  Rates  reduced  ?  Oh  yes, 
the  rates  had  been  reduced. 


AN  INTELLIGENT  insurance  agent  disputed  a  bill  for  mason  work, 
taking  the  law  of  the  case  from  his  rate-book. 

The  mechanic  had  first  put  in  a  stovepipe,  but  later  replaced  it  with 
a  chimney. 

The  rule  reads,  "  When  a  charge  has  been  made  for  a  stovepipe,  the 
charge  for  an  artificial,  stone,  cement  or  earthenware  chimney  need  not 
be  added."  At  last  report  the  bill  had  not  been  collected. 

I  ASKED  my  scholarly  friend  what  he  thought  of  the  grammatical 
construction  of  the  many  circulars  issued  from  a  certain  Compact  office. 

"Well,"  he  replied,  "at  present  the  author  could  only  be  convicted 
of  assault  and  battery,  but  last  year  he  could  easily  have  been  found 
guilty  of  murder." 

OUR  new  special  wires  from  Los  Angeles  :  "  Loss  on  stock  of  books 
and  stationery.  Send  immediately  a  copy  of  Lowden's  'Adjustment  of 
Book  Losses'." 

METAPHOR :    (Assorted.) 

"If  we  are  not  careful,"  said  the  eloquent  speaker,  "we  will  find 
ourselves  in  a  quagmire  where  we  will  drift  to  destruction." 


THE   KNAPSACK      1898  257 


EDITORIAL,    1898.  GEO.   F.   GRANT. 


EF  you  are  that  kind  of  a  man,  you  can  make  it  a  safe  rule  in  business 
never  to  be  satisfied  with  a  small  amount  of  worry.  Do  your 
worrying  on  a  large  scale ;  by  wholesale— as  it  were.  A  man  who 
only  worries  a  little  is  doing  practically  no  worrying  at  all,  and  the 
satisfaction  of  a  long,  sleepless  night  is  denied  him.  Neither  does  he 
know  the  sensation  of  a  moist  palm,  or  a  cold  mouth,  void  of  saliva. 
To  be  a  good  first-class  worrier  requires  long  practice  and  constant 
effort.  No  trifle  is  too  small  for  attention,  and  if  you  can  learn  to  worry 
on  two  separate  subjects  at  once,  particularly  if  there  are  subdivisions  in 
the  subjects,  you  have  climbed  pretty  near  to  the  top  of  the  ladder,  and 
there  is  room  at  the  top  for  the  ambitious  climber.  It  does  not  always 
follow  that  a  person  with  a  large  capacity  for  worry  knows  what  to  worry 
about.  Such  a  person  is  to  be  commiserated,  and  the  few  hints  here 
given  may  perhaps  save  such  a  one  from  the  evil  effect  of  contentment 
and  help  to  bring  his  mind  to  bear  on  the  subject  until  the  state  of 
acute  unrest,  so  dear  to  the  heart  of  a  true  worry  student,  is  really  his 
own. 

If  your  superior  officer  speaks  approvingly  of  your  work,  worry !  He 
may  have  a  hidden  meaning  which  you  cannot  fathom ;  a  long,  wakeful 
night  is  excellent  discipline  at  such  a  time.  If  you  receive  an  official 
communication  couched  in  excellent  English  and  reading  like  a  book, 
worry  !  It  may  be  a  bad  sign  and  there  may  be  something  "between  the 
lines  "  ;  you  had  better  give  two  days  to  this  case.  If  by  the  2ist  of  the 
month  no  fires  have  been  reported,  worry!  It  is  an  evil  omen  and  may 
portend  great  disaster;  as  each  day  goes  by  worry  more  and  more. 
When  a  good  fat  loss  occurs,  beware !  Be  on  your  guard  !  The  excite- 
ment of  the  adjustment  will  take  your  attention  for  awhile,  and  you  may 
not  remember  to  worry.  When  traveling  on  business,  if  the  train  meets 
with  an  accident — after  you  have  left  it — worry  over  what  might  have 
been!  Not  that  you  might  have  lost  your  life;  that  is  nothing;  but 
because  of  the  annoyance  which  might  have  happened  the  office. 

Is  it  some  time  since  you  have  had  the  services  of  a  physician ;  let 
that  fact  furnish  food  for  your  ambition.  It  means  something!  Possibly 
something  dreadful !  Worry ! ! 


2 58  THE   KNAPSACK      1898 

Do  not,  however,  be  so  foolish  as  to  worry  at  the  request  of  another. 
Some  jocular  people  are  always  to  be  found  who  will  put  up  a  hypothetical 
case  in  the  expectation  that  you  will  swallow  the  bait.  Beware  of  them  ; 
they  are  expert  at  their  alleged  fun  and  with  the  true  instinct  of  an  angler 
never  weary  of  casting  their  bait.  Such  people  have  no  worries  of  their 
own ;  some  trick  of  fortune  has  made  them  rich  in  wealth  and  power. 
Do  not  associate  with  them.  Misery  loves  miserable  company.  Never 
forget  that,  and  some  day  when  your  work  is  done,  after  your  eyes  and 
ears  are  closed  forever,  men  will  sing  your  praises  and  deliver  laudatory 
speeches  in  recounting  your  virtues,  but  you  are  past  worrying  then,  and 
it  cannot  hurt  you.  Worry  while  you  can,  my  hearers,  and  leave  the 
rest  to  fate. 

HOW   HAPPJ! 

A  special  of  "Web-Foot"  named  Fabj 
Is  wise  as  a  veteran  rabbj ; 

'Neath  a  watery  sky, 

In  garments  quite  dry, 
At  each  well-sprinkled  risk  doth  Grabj. 
Grab-He— Sabj  ? 


HE  CALLED  on  his  friend,  the  manager,  the  other  day — just  a  friendly 
call  to  be  sociable — and  he  said,  "  You  must  have  a  lot  of  calls  from 
careless  people  who  take  up  your  time  and  never  do  the  business  any 
good."  "Yes,  I  do,"  said  the  manager;  "it  is  an  awful  bore,  but  my 
chief  clerk  has  a  good  remedy ;  he  sizes  a  man  up  and  when  he  thinks 
he  ought  to  go  he  tells  me  I  am  wanted  at  the  telephone."  Just  then  the 
chief  clerk  came  in  and  said,  "You  are  wanted  at  the  telephone,  sir." 


"PLEASE  order  kindlings  and  coal  to-day  sure,"  said  Mrs.  President; 
"don't  forget  it,  love."  "  Certainly,  my  precious,  I  will  order  it  at  once." 
He  did  not  reach  home  until  quite  late  and  he  had  forgotten  the  wood 
and  coal.  Business  at  the  office  and  a  lodge  meeting  had  driven  the 
order  quite  out  of  his  mind.  Next  morning  Mrs.  President  was  repentant 
of  the  hasty  words  she  had  spoken  the  night  before.  "Really,  dear," 
said  she,  "I  could  not  know  that  you  would  have  taken  it  so  to  heart  and 
be  restless  and  uneasy  in  your  sleep.  You  turned  and  tossed  and  talked 
about  it  all  night."  " What  did  I  say ?"  "You  said,  'Give  me  twenty 
dollars  worth  of  chips ! '  over  and  over  again." 


THE    KNAPSACK     1898  259 


A   LOST   SHEEP. 

WE  were  gathered  at  Helena  one  cold  winter  night ;  the  snow  and 
wind  outside  only  gave  an  additional  sense  of  comfort  to  those 
within  the  bright,  warm,  social  room  of  the  hotel. 

"Do  you  remember  Hosey  Mo  ward?"  said  the  speaker.  "He 
traveled  as  a  solicitor  for  the  '  Eneole '  company,  and  was  for  years  a 
prominent  factor  out  our  way.  His  specialty  was  farm  business  and  he 
dressed  and  acted  like  a  granger;  the  hand  of  the  elements  was  laid 
heavily  over  his  outer  garments,  and  the  map  of  the  West  India  Islands, 
in  coffee  and  tobacco,  was  done  on  his  shirt  front.  Of  course  you 
remember  him;  that  is.  all  of  you  but  little  Rembrant,  over  there;  he  is 
too  fresh  at  the  business  to  remember  anything."  At  this  Rembrant 
sniffed.  "Well,  I  saw  Hosey  only  last  week  and  if  it  was  not  for  his 
everlasting  pluck  and  unnatural  energy  you  would  have  said  he  wouldn't 
fetch  the  price  of  old  junk.  He  was  worse  dressed  than  ever,  but  he  had 
silver  in  his  pocket,  and  he  was  good  natured  as  a  friendly  squirrel, 
*  Hello ! '  I  cried.  '  What  on  earth  brings  you  here  at  this  time  of  year — 
farm  business?'  " 

"Oh,  no!  No  more  insurance  for  me,  I  am  done  with  it  for  good 
and  all,'  he  said.  'What  with  the  drop  in  commissions  and  the 
wretched  collection  rule  there  is  no  show  for  an  honest  solicitor  any 
more.  No,  sir,  no  insurance  for  me !  I  have  a  better  thing.  I  own  a 
patent,  sir,  a  patent  on  an  article  of  my  own  invention.  I  own  the  right 
to  manufacture  in  the  whole  United  States,  and  I  shall  sell  territorial 
rights,  and  you  hear  me,  I  am  good  as  a  millionaire  already.'  " 

"Of  course  I  congratulated  him.  '  But  tell  me,'  I  said,  '  what  is  this 
valuable  invention?' >: 

"'Well,'  he  said,  'it  is  the  most  taking  thing  on  earth;  just  adapted 
to  suburban  and  remote  residences ;  in  short,  it  is  a  movable  combination 
dining  table  and  bath  tub.' " 

"  I  was  so  shocked  that  I  could  only  stare  at  him  vacantly. 

"'Yes,  sir,'  he  went  on  glibly,  'portable  dining  table  and  bath  tub 
all  in  one ;  inexpensive,  easily  adjusted,  never  gets  out  of  order,  and  a 
child  can  work  it.  You  eat  your  dinner,  remove  the  dishes,  take  away 
the  cloth,  pull  aside  one  leg  and  out  comes  the  tub ;  you  jump  in,  take 
your  bath,  go  to  bed  and  sleep  like  an  angel ;  in  the  morning  you  set  the 
table  for  breakfast,  and  there  you  are.'  " 

"  'But,  wait  a  minute,'  I  gasped  ;  '  dear  me,  how  about  the  water  in 
the  tub?'" 

"'Serves  a  double  purpose,'  said  Hosey.  'When  you  get  ready 
you  run  it  up  to  the  back  door  and  water  the  garden.'  " 


260  THE   KNAPSACK 


"  'But,  land  sakes,  man,'  I  said,  'do  people  eat  and  bathe  in  such 
near  proximity  ? ' ' 

"  '  Do  they  ?    Watch  'em  ! '  he  said. 

"  I  simply  looked  at  Hosey  in  silence.     Finally,  he  broke  the  stillness. 

"  'Tell  you  what  I  will  do,  old  man,  just  for  old  association  sake.  I 
will  sell  you  the  right  for  all  of  Utah.  The  insurance  business  has  gone 
to  the  bottomless  pit.  Now,  I  will  let  you  in  on  the  ground  floor  of  my 
combination.  There  's  a  fortune  in  it,  sure.'  " 

"Well,  boys,  I  nearly  fell  dead,  and  I  never  made  him  a  reply." 

The  little  party  seated  around  the  fire  at  the  hotel  in  Helena  looked 
at  each  other.  Little  Rembrant  broke  the  silence.  "What  a  fool  he 
must  be  to  think  he  can  sell  bath  tubs  in  winter,"  he  said. 

There  was  noise  enough  after  that  remark. 


MOTHER  AND   CHILD. 

What  is  that,  mother? 

The  agent,  my  child — 

The  morn  has  but  just  looked  out  and  smiled, 
When  he  starts  from  his  humble  place  of  rest, 
And  prospects  for  risks,  bad,  better  and  best; 
Hard  is  his  toil  and  slender  his  pay, 
While  he  tries  to  follow  the  compact  way. 

Ever,  my  child,  like  him  pay  your  debts, 
For  now  he  remits  the  money  he  gets. 

What  is  that,  mother? 

The  special,  my  son — 
A  man  who  is  full  of  spirit  and  fun. 
His  air  is  bold,  his  action  brisk, 
Keen  is  his  scent  for  any  old  risk ; 
And  whether  young  or  getting  old, 
He  can  do  more  than  he  is  told. 

Ever,  my  son,  be  thou  his  size, 

Faithful,  earnest,  patient  and  wise. 

(Toothpick  shoes  and  sporty  ties.) 

What  is  that,  mother? 

The  manager,  boy — 
Proudly  careering  his  course  of  joy ; 
Firm  in  his  native  vigor  relying, 


THE   KNAPSACK     1898  261 


Breasting  the  non-boards,  cut  rates  defying; 
He  swerves  not  a  hair,  with  a  course  so  clear 
That  agents  look  on  him  with  wonder  and  fear. 
Boy,  may  the  manager's  flight  be  thine. 
Onward  and  upward,  true  to  the  line. 
(Across  to  Canada,  over  the  line.) 


WHITHER  ARE   WE  DRIFTING? 

DICKENS  tells  of  a  dinner  party,  at  which  the  baby  of  the 
family,  a  child  in  arms,  was  handed  around  for  inspection.  "See 
him  smile,"  said  the  fond  mother.  "The  angels  are  whispering 
to  him."  The  wooden-faced  butler  behind  her  chair  felt  an  uncontrol- 
lable desire  to  say  "wind,"  and  throw  up  his  job.  The  good  or  bad  in 
anything  is  often  determined  from  the  point  of  view.  The  following 
copy  of  a  daily  report  is  the  cause  of  these  reflections.  The  wording  of 
the  report  reads : 

"Prof.  F.  P.  Hazal. 

$500.  On  his  gas  balloon,  known  as  the  '  Pride  of  the  Sky,'  while 
in  actual  service  in  the  counties  of  Marion  and  Polk,  State 
of  Oregon ;  and 

$250.    On  basket  and  trapeze  suspended  from  said  balloon. 
"  Permission  granted  to  make  pyrotechnic  displays,  without  prejudice 
to  this  insurance. 

"  Loss,  if  any,  payable  to  the  Portland  Gas  Company,  as  their 
interest  may  appear  as  holders  of  the  first  mortgage,  and  balance,  if  any, 
to  the  Portland  Awning  and  Tent  Company. 

"This  slip  attached  to  and  made  a  part  of  Policy  No.  2,854,561  of  the 
Fire  Insurance  Company,  issued  to  Prof.  F.  P.  Hazal,  December  3oth, 
1897.  Three  months,  $750;  rate  6  percent." 

When  I  first  saw  the  report  I  did  not  like  the  risk.  It  was  a  new 
subject  to  me,  and  I  am  old-fashioned  and  like  to  tread  the  beaten  path. 
I  had  no  occasion  to  cancel  by  wire,  as  I  knew  by  the  morning  paper  it 
was  raining  in  Oregon.  If  I  wrote  a  letter,  I  might  say  it  was  a  risk 
which  would  not  pass  the  board  office,  but  here  my  eye  rested  on  the 
stamp  of  the  secretary  of  the  executive  committee,  and  I  read  these 
words:  "Board  of  Underwriters  of  the  Pacific,  relief  granted  Jan.  3d, 
1898."  Here  was  a  chance  that  the  risk  had  some  possible  merit,  for 
the  secretary  of  the  board  never  grants  relief  if  he  can  avoid  it.  I  looked 
the  report  over  carefully.  "While  in  actual  service,"  it  said-  Actual 


262  THE    KNAPSACK     1898 


service?  Actual  service?  thought  I.  What  in  the  world  is  actual  service? 
If  it  were  a  dumb  brute  in  the  spring  time  I  would  know  well  enough. 
Actual  service  must  mean  during  the  time  it  serves  Prof.  Hazal  to  ascend 
and  come  down.  I  have  a  great  mind  to  ask  Tom  Van  Ness  for  an 
opinion.  Still,  I  dislike  to  admit  my  lack  of  confidence  in  my  own 
knowledge  of  words.  "Actual  service  in  the  counties  of  Marion  and 
Polk!"  Suppose  there  is  a  high  wind  and  the  balloon  drifts  over  the 
county  line  ?  How  is  anyone  to  know  a  county  line  half  a  mile  from  the 
ground  ?  If  this  balloon  is  destroyed  by  fire,  Prof.  Hazal  will  never  be 
able  to  prove  anything.  If  his  body  falls  outside  the  county  of  Marion 
or  Polk,  there  is  no  claim ;  and  as  Prof.  Hazal  values  his  life  quite  as 
much  as  the  company  values  money,  why,  there  is  absolutely  no  moral 
hazard,  and  the  physical  hazard  is  restricted  to  a  few  days  in  the  month, 
and  the  rate  is  6  per  cent.  I  think  possibly  I  may  accept  this  risk  as 
gilt-edged  at  this  rate  of  meditation,  for  really  the  more  I  think  of  it  the 
better  it  seems.  "Permission  granted  to  make  pyrotechnic  displays." 
Suppose  a  rocket  strikes  the  balloon,  it  means  a  total  loss  ;  or  a  Roman 
candle,  or  a  pin-wheel,  or  a  double-headed  Dutchman,  why  there  is  not 
rate  enough  to  be  named  for  such  a  fool  risk.  But  stay!  Reflect  a 
moment!  The  pyrotechnic  display  is  more  on  the  dead  wall  posters 
than  a  reality.  I  have  seen  the  balloon  ascensions  at  the  park,  and  the 
fireworks  are  by  day  and  only  make  smoke ;  and  then,  again,  what  is 
Prof.  Hazal  about  during  the  display  ?  He  has  no  more  desire  to  blow 
up  the  balloon  than  the  company.  I  think  better  of  the  pyrotechnic 
display  after  this. 

"Loss,  if  any,  payable  to  the  Portland  Gas  Company,  as  their 
interest  may  appear  as  holders  of  the  first  mortgage"  That  settles  the 
matter  and  I  regret  having  wasted  so  much  time  on  the  blamed  thing.  I 
will  cancel  by  wire  after  all.  The  Portland  Gas  Company?  Why,  of 
course !  the  balloon  is  filled  with  gas,  and  in  event  of  a  fire  on  the  very 
first  ascension,  the  gas  company  is  sure  of  their  pay;  after  that  there  will 
be  no  trouble.  These  aeronauts  get  a  large  sum  of  money  each  time  they 
go  up  in  a  balloon,  and  the  gas  company's  bill  cannot  be  so  very  much. 
I  see  it  quite  clearly.  Prof.  Hazal,  like  all  of  his  class,  is  improvident ; 
he  spends  his  money  freely,  is  a  sort  of  a  king  with  the  rustic  folks,  and 
is  no  doubt  a  stranger  to  Oregon,  and  the  gas  company  and  the  tent 
company  want  their  money  secured ;  but  why  is  the  tent  company  content 
with  a  second  mortgage?  That  is  not  quite  right;  in  fact,  it  is  a 
suspicious  circumstance.  The  answer  to  that  is  that  the  awning  and  tent 
company  built  the  balloon ;  in  fact,  it  is  their  enterprise,  but  it  is  not 
intended  the  public  shall  know  it,  They  do  not  care  to  let  it  go  out  that 


THE   KNAPSACK     1898  263 


they  are  behind  this  man  Hazal,  so  they  have  worded  the  "loss,  if  any," 
clause  in  this  way.  Not  a  bad  plan  ;  in  short,  quite  clever.  The  more  I 
think  of  it  the  less  objection  I  can  find  to  the  risk,  and  yet  I  don't  just 
like  it.  I  have  turned  down  two  risks  from  that  agency  lately  and  I  am 
getting  the  small  end  of  the  business  from  there.  Three  other  companies 
are  in  the  agency  and  two  of  them  have  special  agents  that  just  stuff  the 
local  agent  with  things  to  eat  and  drink.  The  silver  mug  I  sent  to  his 
baby  is  six  months  old,  and  would  have  been  forgotten  if  I  had  not  put 
the  name  of  the  good  old  company  on  it  in  large  letters.  Yes,  I  must 
carry  the  risk,  but  I  will  re-insure  half  of  it.  I  don't  just  like  to  take  it 
around  myself ;  it  will  perhaps  attract  attention  and  create  suspicion.  I 
will  send  the  usual  re-insurance  clerk.  The  clerk  returned  so  quickly  I 
was  sure  the  risk  was  rejected.  No.  "Took  it  at  once  and  will  write  all 
of  them  he  can  get,"  said  the  clerk,  and  here  I  made  a  mistake.  My  own 
cautious  nature  impelled  me  to  telegraph  the  agent  to  collect  before  the 
first  ascension.  The  weather  might  clear,  the  man  might  go  up,  the 
balloon  burn,  and  nobody  from  whom  to  collect  the  premium — that 
seemed  plausible  enough  and  worth  the  price  of  the  message.  That  was 
my  mistake.  The  whole  thing  was  a  fraud  originated  by  the  local ; 
assisted  by  the  special,  aided  and  abetted  by  the  assistant  general  agent, 
and  they  had  landed  the  "old  man,"  but  my  friend  of  the  re-insuring 
company  went  down  with  me — and  that  is  some  consolation. 


IF,  WHEN  you  work,  you  do  not  shirk, 
And  never  stop  to  quibble  nor  quirk  ; 
If  it's  understood  you  will  be  good, 
And  try  to  saw  your  share  of  wood  ; 
If  your  heart  is  light,  and  you  do  right, 
And  aim  to  keep  your  record  bright, 
When  you  die,  you  may  fly  high 
To  a  detached  mansion  in  the  sky. 


"FATHER,"  said  the  happy  boy,  putting  down  his  illustrated  edition 
of  the  Arabian  Nights  with  a  sigh  of  intense  satisfaction,  "Father! 
what  was  the  most  extraordinary  thing  that  ever  happened  to  you  in  all 
your  life?" 

"Son,"  replied  the  father,  "the  most  extraordinary  thing  that  ever 
happened  to  me  was  the  last  fire  that  destroyed  my  store." 

"And  why  was  the  last  fire  so  extraordinary,  father?" 

"Because  it  was  unexpected,  my  son," 


264  THE   KNAPSACK     1898 


PURE  FICTION. 

SOME  of  you  remember  Philip  Bird,  I  dare  say.  He  was  "counter- 
man" in  the  days  when  steamboat  and  covered  wagons  ruled 
transportation,  long  before  the  iron  track  was  laid.  He  was  a 
serious  boy,  at  school,  with  large,  solemn  eyes  ever  looking  earnestly  at 
you.  He  believed  everyone  to  be  honest,  and  he  trusted  his  associates 
beyond  belief ;  not  that  he  was  lacking  in  a  sense  of  humor,  for  he  was 
the  first  to  understand  a  witticism,  but  his  faith  in  the  integrity  of  his 
fellows  was  almost  pathetic.  He  learned  his  lessons  quickly  and  recited 
them  faithfully,  but  he  dreamed  about  them  with  his  eyes  wide  open  and 
built  mental  castles  of  the  material  furnished  to  him  by  his  teacher,  but 
beautified  by  his  own  inspiration,  and  he  was  often  punished  because  he 
was  "idle  and  listless."  That  was  the  way  the  teacher  put  it.  No  one 
but  his  mother  knew  his  timid  and  reserved  disposition,  and  she  was 
disappointed  that  he  was  not  a  big,  burly  chap  to  fight  a  way  in  the 
world  and  early  bring  something  to  eke  out  the  scanty  larder  atod  modest 
family  wardrobe.  Like  many  a  fond  mother  she  sought  to  mould  his 
mind  on  her  own  plan,  and  barely  concealed  the  disappointment  of 
failure.  He  suffered  while  he  tried  to  do  his  whole  duty,  as  poets  and 
lovers  of  nature  must  when  all  in  their  lives  is  out  of  drawing.  With 
nothing  but  filial  affection  to  harmonize  that  which  he  could  not  under- 
stand, he  did  what  he  was  told  to  do.  From  school  to  an  office  as  "boy," 
with  a  small  salary — a  proud  boy  glad  to  help  mother — but  a  wondering 
boy  trying  to  understand  business ;  he  made  few  mistakes ;  did  not 
"watch  the  clock" ;  never  asked  for  and  never  received  a  holiday;  did 
all  he  was  told  to  do  and  more,  and  yet  the  president  was  impatient  of 
the  boy  who  had  no  "get  up"  about  him.  In  time,  the  man  at  the  desk 
two  removes  above  him  was  taken  sick,  and  it  was  found  that  Philip  had 
a  knowledge  of  the  work  and  was  able  to  carry  it  on.  The  temporary 
assignment  to  this  desk  became  permanent,  and  the  clerk  over  whom  he 
had  jumped  became  a  silent  foe.  The  president  thought  it  strange  that 
the  "little  snake,"  as  he  called  Philip,  had  glided  so  smoothly  ahead. 
"  Mark  my  words,"  said  he,  "there  is  something  wrong.  I  don't  like 
that  fellow." 

Months  ran  to  years  ;  salaries  are  raised  at  intervals ;  the  boy  grows 
to  be  a  man  ;  death  claims  parents  ;  and  loving  hearts  are  drawn  to  each 
in  marriage.  Philip  was  cashier  and  counter-man  now,  serious,  earnest, 
attentive,  obliging,  and  still  distrusted  by  the  president.  "  I  don't  know 
what  it  is,  but  that  fellow  makes  me  nervous.  I  don't  like  him ;  and  yet 
I  can't  put  my  finger  on  a  thing  that  is  not  all  right.  Peace  of  mind  is 


THE    KNAPSACK     1898  265 


worth  something,  and  I  will  fire  him  the  first  chance  I  get.  He  is  crawl- 
ing too  near  to  the  head  office,  anyway." 

Then  Philip  was  fired.  One  day  of  passionate  despair,  one  day  of 
calm  resignation,  one  week  of  shame-faced  timidity,  and  then  the  cooling, 
grateful,  hopeful  counsel  of  a  clear-headed  wife  had  its  effect.  The 
president  was  popular,  a  rustler,  a  square  man.  If  he  discharged  anyone, 
there  was  cause  for  it.  The  street  gave  Philip  a  frosty  shoulder. 

He  dropped  out  of  sight.  Ten  years  passed;  twenty  years.  And 
then  the  celebrated  inventor,  Philip  Bird,  returned  to  town,  a  self-con- 
tained, scholarly  millionaire. 

"I  brought  that  boy  up,"  said  the  venerable  president.  "I  gave 
him  his  start  in  life,  and  yet  he  has  not  even  called  on  me." 


IN  LAW,  technicalities  seem  to  be  as  valuable  as  facts : 
Over  yonder  down  South,  a  man  thought  of  taking  out  a  policy  on 
his  dwelling.  He  talked  a  good  deal  about  it  with  the  agent,  made  a 
diagram,  and  asked  for  the  rate,  and  was  always  on  the  verge  of  order- 
ing a  policy.  Finally,  his  house  burned.  After  a  time  he  decided  that 
the  agent  should  have  issued  a  policy  anyway,  and  he  brought  suit  to 
recover  from  the  company.  The  judge  gave  a  verdict  for  the  company 
on  the  ground  that  a  proof  of  loss  had  not  been  filed  within  sixty  days  of 
the  date  of  the  fire. 


MANAGER — Did  you  offer  this  woman  a  rebate? 
Solicitor — I  did  not,  and  I  never  told  a  lie  in  all  my  life. 
Manager — Good     enough.      I    am    getting   a    little    absent-minded 
myself. 


IT  is  hard  for  some  specials  to  remember  faces,  and  it  is  a  point 
with  most  specials  never  to  admit  that  they  do  not  remember  an  agent. 
At  Stockton,  the  other  day,  one  of  our  boys  was  approached  by  a  smiling 
stranger,  who  said,  "You  don't  remember  me  now,  do  you?"  "Oh, 
yes,  I  do,"  said  the  special,  "remember  you  perfectly  well,  but  I  forget 
just  where  you  live."  "  Madera,"  said  the  stranger.  "Why,  of  course," 
said  the  special ;  and  how  are  things  at  Madera?  "  but  all  the  time  he  was 
thrashing  about  in  his  mind  for  the  name  of  the  Madera  agent.  It  came 
to  him  after  the  affable  stranger  had  disappeared — also  the  special's 
watch  and  chain. 


266  THE    KNAPSACK     1898 


THROW  UP  YOUR   HANDS. 

"Proud  man  drest  in  a  little  brief  authority  most  ignorant  of  what  he's  most 
assured.  His  glassy  essence  like  an  angry  ape,  plays  such  fantastic  tricks  before 
high  heaven  as  make  the  angels  weep." 


there  was  a  "Ding-dong"  who  lived  in  a  sweet  village  near 
the  banks  of  a  running  river,  and  he  grew  up  with  the  people  all 
around  him.  As  a  little,  teeny,  weeny  Ding-dong  he  was  cute  and 
the  pride  of  the  valley.  Men  patted  his  head  and  women  curled  his  hair ; 
birds  regarded  him  curiously  and  dogs  used  to  run  with  him. 

In  time  he  was  older  and  smarter,  and  knew  it,  and  dinged  it  and 
donged  it  into  the  ears  of  his  neighbors  until  he  had  no  neighbors,  and 
houses  were  to  let  in  the  vicinity  of  his  father's  home. 

Then  he  studied,  and  the  effect  of  study  was  a  shock  to  the  legal 
profession,  and  he  dinged  the  lawyers  and  donged  the  court  until  he  put 
their  eye  out.  After  that,  he  took  a  ding  at  politics  and  donged  his  way 
from  primary  meetings  to  nominating  conventions,  and  always  he  gained 
his  point  but  lost  his  cause. 

Then  he  went  forth  to  ding  public  officers  and  prominent  citizens, 
and  although  he  killed  them  dead  as  Julius  Caesar  on  paper  they  were 
still  alive  in  the  hearts  of  their  countrymen. 

After  this  he  run  amuck  and  people  fled  from  him,  but  one  day  the 
Governor,  a  brave  man,  put  the  shackles  of  office  upon  him  and  tied  him 
down  to  his  post,  so  that  thereafter  and  until  his  term  was  up  he  could 
ding  at  but  one  class  of  people,  and  the  birds  sang  once  more  with  joy 
and  the  dogs  barked  bravely  once  again,  and  lawyers  smiled  and 
politicians  beamed,  and  the  public  said,  "For  heaven's  sake  keep  him  at 
his  post  forever,"  but  the  poor  insurance  people  threw  up  their  hands 
just  as  men  do  when  friendly  brigands  stop  a  stage  coach — and  this  never 
occurred  in  Kansas  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  McNall. 

ARE  all  "board  members"  wooden  men? 
No  !     But  some  are  of  pretty  good  timbre. 

ONE  of  the  boys  is  very  proud  of  his  personal  appearance  and  his 
toilet  is  always  carefully  arranged.  One  time  we  had  traveled  all  night  by 
stage  to  adjust  a  loss.  Arriving  at  day-break,  we  decided  to  freshen  up 
and  defer  sleeping  in  bed  until  night.  I  waited  patiently  while  our  friend 
groomed  himself.  Suddenly  he  gave  a  snort  and  rushed  for  the  water 
basin.  By  some  means,  known  only  to  a  country  hotel,  a  bottle  of 
pepper  sauce  was  on  his  bureau  which  he  had  mistaken  for  hair  dressing. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1898  267 

A  SERMON   IN   LINES. 

I. 
As  we  gather  at  our  meeting, 

With  old  friends  on  every  side, 
With  our  tales  of  joy  and  business, 

Songs  of  mirth,  and  songs  of  pride. 

II. 

Think  of  those,  do  not  forget  them, 

As  we  tell  our  stories  o'er; 
Those  who  once  were  here  beside  us, 

Comrades,  who  have  gone  before. 

III. 
Who  shall  know  or  who  shall  tell  us, 

If  beyond  the  Great  Divide, 
Where  the  curtains  fall  asunder, 

And  the  doors  are  parted  wide, 

IV. 

Shall  we  meet  them,  shall  we  greet  them, 

In  that  far  and  distant  land  ; 
Shall  we  see  their  faces  brighten, 

Shall  we  grasp  each  friendly  hand  ? 

V. 

Do  they  stand  with  arms  outreaching, 

Welcome  bearing  for  us  all  ? 
Are  they  there,  expectant,  waiting, 

Shall  we  hear  their  voices  call? 

VI. 

Shall  we  join  the  best  and  bravest, 

And  once  more  review  the  past, 
All  our  strife  and  toil  and  labor, 

To  the  winds  forever  cast  ? 

VII. 
Weary  hands  may  drop  their  burden ; 

Weary  hearts  may  rest  at  ease ; 
Tired  brains  forget  their  labor  ; 

Care  and  toil  from  troubling  cease. 


268  THE   KNAPSACK      1898 

VIII. 

Look  around,  see!  here  among  us, 
Shadowy  forms  are  standing  near, 

With  the  smile  of  God  about  them, 
With  the  peace  that  knows  no  fear. 

IX. 
They  are  with  us  in  the  spirit ; 

Hail  them !  as  the  friends  of  yore  ; 
Dear  the  thoughts,  and  sweet  the  memory, 

Brothers  who  have  gone  before ! 

X. 

Oh !  companions,  stand  together ! 

Soon,  too  soon,  our  day  is  o'er, 
And  we  leave  to  join  our  comrades, 

Comrades  who  have  gone  before. 


DU  VAL. 


WHY  do  they  always  speak  of  your  chief  clerk  as  a  man  of  great 
push? 

Because  that  is  the  sign  on  the  door  he  uses  so  much,  I  think. 


ONE  of  the  rules  of  the  office  reads :  ' '  Vacancy  permits  can  be 
granted  only  by  the  head  office."  For  this  reason  an  agent  in  a  7x9 
village  wrote  to  the  head  office  as  follows :  ' '  Please  to  excuse  me  for 
thirty  days,  as  I  want  to  go  to  the  coast  and  refresh  with  the  salt  air." 


HOT  TIME  IN    'FRISCO. 

By  R.  W.  OSBORN. 

All  ye  underwriters  at  this  board,  list  while  I  sing  this  song, 
It  will  tell  you  of  the  many  things  to  happen  here  ere  long ; 
Just  three  years  ago  we  had  a  fight  and  rates  were  cut  in  four, 
(All  sorts  of  bad  and  senseless  things  are  done  in  times  of  war.) 
Look  out  then  for  your  expiration  book,  don't  accuse  the  other  as  a 

crook, 

Because  he  gets  a  risk  that  you  did  fail  to  hook — 'twill  make  a  hot 
time  in  'Frisco  this  year, 

By  jingo. 


KNAPSACK     1898  269 


CHORUS. 

Bow  your  head  in  shame  for  what  we  've  done, 
Thank  your  stars  the  war  has  had  its  run  ; 
But  if  perchance  one  thinks  he  'd  like  to  have  more  fun, 
There'll  be  a  hot  time  in  'Frisco  this  year. 

Now  Jack  Frost  got  in  his  deadly  work  in  southern  part  of  State, 
Ran  right  through  the  orange  groves  so  like  the  irony  of  fate, 
And  the  rain  it  failed  to  fall  in  places  where  the  grain  is  king, 
North  wind  dried  up  the  barley  crop  and  every  other  thing. 
Look  out  then  for  the  business  that  's  in  force,  good  risks  burn  and 

become  a  total  loss. 
And  if  you  don't  inspect  as  a  matter  then  of  course  there'll  be  a  hot 

time  in  'Frisco  this  year, 

By  jingo. 

Chorus. 

Then  there  's  Clunie,  with  his  dictum  and  his  rulings  so  unjust, 
Saying  one  day  we  must  not  do  this,  the  next  day  that  we  must  ; 
For  illegal  taxes  he  is  bent,  our  bonds  he  nullifies, 
Claims  our  rates  are  high,  the  board  is  bad,  these  does  he  criticise. 
Look  out  then  or  behind  the  bars  we'll  be,  serving  time  at  the  will 

of  Czar  Clunie, 
And  if  we  don't  disband  this  board  now  instantly,  there'll  be  a  hot 

time  in  'Frisco  this  year, 

By  jingo. 

Chorus. 

Now  how  charming  we  would  look  with  prison  stripes  upon  our  backs, 
Breaking  stone  in  Folsom's  yard,  or  turning  jute  right  into  sacks; 
Oh  !  how  crushing  this  would  be  for  high-born  spirits  such  as  these  — 
All  this  will  only  come  about  when  moons  are  made  of  cheese. 
Say  then,  say,  to  this  same  commissioner,  we  '11  do  right,  yes,  most 

respectful  sir, 
But  don't  demand  our  life  as  executioner.  —  There  '11  be  a  hot  time 

in  'Frisco  this  year, 

By  jingo. 

LAST  CHORUS. 

Raise  your  heads  for  we  have  done  no  wrong, 

Shout  our  rights  and  keep  the  shout  up  long, 

And  when  you  tire,  just  merge  your  shout  into  the  song  : 

There'll  be  a  GOOD  time  in  'Frisco  this  year. 


2/0  THE   KNAPSACK      1898 


THE    CHICKEN  DISPUTE. 

"  I  only  deal  by  rules  of  art,  such  as  are  lawful." 

THE  Farmers'  Mutual  Insurance  Company  of  Malaria  Corners, 
Oregon,  issued  its  policy  No.  41,144,  at  its  Gold  Hill  agency  in 
favor  of  Alfred  Falfa,  for  $100,  as  follows : 

"  $100  on  hens  and  roosters,  plucked  or  unplucked,  in  coop,  field, 
hen-house  or  crate,  while  situate  on  or  about  his  ranch  of  forty  acres, 
more  or  less,  lying  in  a  southerly  direction,  three  miles  from  Gold  Hill, 
Jackson  county,  Oregon. 

"In  event  of  loss,  this  company  shall  not  be  liable  on  mixed  breeds 
in  a  proportion  exceeding  one  dollar  for  three  hens,  or  roosters,  as  the 
case  may  be,  and  for  'Plymouth  Rocks,'  not  exceeding  one  dollar  for  two 
fowls  of  that  breed. 

"  If  this  policy  is  cancelled  by  the  assured,  it  is  hereby  understood 
and  agreed  that  in  addition  to  the  usual  short  rates,  the  assured  shall  pay 
for  the  necessary  expense  of  doing  the  business." 

The  hen-house  burned  from  cause  unknown,  but  presumably  from 
spontaneous  combustion  caused  by  an  excess  of  phosphorus  in  some 
over-heated  eggs,  and  a  settlement  of  the  loss  was  made  by  A.  W.  Foote, 
special  adjuster  of  the  Farmers'  Mutual,  as  follows: 

"  It  appears,  Mr.  Falfa,"  said  the  adjuster,  "that  you  lost  by  this  fire 
1 20  hens  and  roosters  of  various  unnamed  kinds,  and  120  'Plymouth 
Rocks'?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  assured. 

"  Do  you  or  do  you  not  consider  it  significant  that  the  exact  number 
lost  in  each  case  was  a  hundred  and  twenty?" 

"  O  !   Why,  no ;  it  just  happened  to  come  that  way." 

"Well,  we  will  call  it  a  coincidence  and  agree  on  that  number.  Our 
contract  is  to  pay  you  at  the  rate  of  one  dollar  for  each  three  of  the  mixed 
chickens,  and  one  dollar  for  each  two  of  the  Plymouth  Rocks." 

"That  is  what  the  policy  says,"  remarked  the  assured. 

"  Now,  one  dollar  for  three  and  one  dollar  for  two  are  equal  to  two 
dollars  for  five,  are  they  not?  " 

The  claimant  made  a  mental  calculation,  and  after  a  long  pause, 
replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"Then,"  continued  the  adjuster,  "at  the  rate  of  two  dollars  for  five 
chickens,  a  hundred  chickens  would  be  forty  dollars,  wouldn't  they? " 

"Let  me  see.  Five 's  in  two  dollars  forty  times;  that's  forty  cents 
apiece;  one  hundred  at  forty  cents  makes  forty  dollars.  Yes,  that's 
right." 


THE   KNAPSACK      1898  271 


"Then  two  hundred  would  be  eighty  dollars,  and  forty  would  be 
sixteen,  making  a  total  of  ninety-six  dollars." 

"Well,  I  suppose  that's  correct,"  said  the  assured;  "but  when  I 
figured  it  at  home  I  made  it  a  hundred  dollars,  and  so  did  the  children, 
and  the  schoolmaster  who  boards  with  us.  We  must  have  made  a 
mistake,  for  240  chickens  at  forty  cents  apiece  amount  to  just  ninety-six 
dollars." 

So  he  signed  a  proof.  Foote  gave  him  a  note  for  the  ninety-six 
dollars,  took  a  receipt,  gathered  in  the  policy  and  returned  to  the  home 
office  at  Malaria  Corners. 

When  the  claimant  returned  to  the  ranch,  the  whole  family,  including 
the  schoolmaster,  who  was  regarded  in  the  neighborhood  as  a  mathemat- 
ical prodigy,  sat  up  till  midnight  figuring,  and  by  the  dim  light  of  an 
antiquated  lamp,  calculated  in  all  kinds  of  ways,  but  finally  agreed  that 
the  loss  was  an  even  hundred. 

The  neighbors  joked  Falfa  so  much  about  the  matter  that  he  got 
mad  and  brought  suit  against  the  company  for  four  dollars  and  costs, 
alleging  fraud. 

The  decision  of  the  court  was  as  follows : 


Al.  Falfa 

vs. 
Farmers'  Mutual  Insurance  Company, 

Of  Malaria  Corners,  Oregon. 


ss.  Mossback,  J. 


The  defendant  company  issued  to  plaintiff  its  policy  No.  41,144,  at  its 
agency  at  Gold  Hill,  Oregon,  in  the  sum  of  $100,  covering  on  "hens  and 
roosters,  plucked  or  unplucked,  in  coop,  field,  hen-house  or  crate,  situate 
on  or  about  assured 's  ranch,"  etc.  In  event  of  loss,  the  company  was 
not  to  be  liable  on  mixed  breeds  in  a  proportion  exceeding  one  dollar  for 
three  hens,  or  roosters,  as  the  case  might  be,  and  for  Plymouth  Rocks,  not 
exceeding  one  dollar  for  two  fowls  of  that  strain. 

A  fire  occurred,  totally  destroying  120  fowls  of  mixed  breed  and  120 
Plymouth  Rocks.  The  company's  adjuster  settled  the  claim  for  $96. 
Plaintiff  now  brings  suit  for  $4  and  costs,  claiming  fraud  on  the  part  of 
the  defendant. 

The  case  appears  to  be  resolved  into  one  main  question  with  two 
collateral  points : 

First.  Did  the  loss  of  said  fowls  by  the  assured  constitute  a  legal 
claim  against  said  insurance  company  for  the  full  amount  of  $100  ? 


THE    KNAPSACK     1898 

Q.  E.  D. — that  is  to  say,  quite  easily  demonstrated,  to-wit, 
namely:  i2o-:-3  =  4ox$i  =  $  40 

i2O-:-2  =  6ox$i  =|  60 

$40 -|- $60  =  $100,  total  loss. 

The  two  collateral  points  are  these,  viz. : 

(A)  The  defendant  gave  the  plaintiff  its  note  for  $96,  pay- 
able one   year  after  date,    without  interest,  which  is 
clearly  to  be  regarded  as  collateral  evidence. 

(B)  In  consideration  of  said  note  the  plaintiff  gave  a  receipt 
in  full  and  surrendered  said  policy. 

Defendant  claims  that  $96  is  a  correct  estimate  of  the  loss,  based  on 
the  following  calculation,  which,  if  figures  cannot  lie,  appears  to  be 
correct :  $i  for  3  and  $i  for  2  =$2  for  5.  Two-fifths  of  240=196. 

Plaintiff  does  not  question  the  accuracy  of  this  computation. 

It  is  clear  that  there  is  a  difference  of  $4,  but  where  it  comes  in  is  not 
so  apparent.  Still,  it  must  be  remembered  that  courts  are  not  schools  of 
the  higher  mathematics.  The  legislators  of  our  State  have  decided  that 
the  amount  named  in  a  policy  shall,  in  the  event  of  the  total  destruction 
of  a  building,  be  the  measure  of  loss,  regardless  of  the  value  of  the 
burned  structure,  and  I  see  no  good  reason  why  this  principle  should  not 
apply  with  equal  justice  to  other  kinds  of  property.  The  courts  have 
always  given  the  benefit  of  any  doubt  to  the  assured  and  justly,  for  it  is  a 
fundamental  truth  underlying  all  law,  that  corporations  are  soulless.  Or, 
as  the  late  Sir  Edward  Coke  tersely  said  :  "  Corporations  cannot  com- 
mit treason,  nor  be  outlawed,  nor  excommunicated,  for  they  have  no 
souls."1 

On  the  other  hand,  I  cannot  overlook  the  fact  that  the  defendant 
company  in  this  case  is  made  up  of  some  of  our  best  farmers,  whose 
rights  must  be  protected.  After  carefully  weighing  the  evidence,  the 
decision  of  the  court  is  that  the  charge  of  fraud  is  not  established. 
Judgment  is  given  against  the  defendant  in  the  sum  of  four  dollars,  while 
the  costs,  which  we  assess  nominally  in  a  like  sum,  will  be  paid  by  the 
plaintiff. 

Mr.  Foote,  the  adjuster,  rankled  under  this  decision,  and  asked  for 
expert  opinions  in  the  following  letter : 

MALARIA  CORNERS,  Oregon,  February  5,  1898. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Knapsack — SIR:     I  enclose  decision  of  Justice 
Mossback,  in  a  case  in  which  my  company  is  interested,  and  as  I  under- 
stand your  paper  has  a  large  circulation,  though  I  never  see  it  more  than 


THE  KNAPSACK     1898 


273 


once  a  year,  I  will  ask  you  to  use  your  valuable  influence  towards  getting 
opinions  on  this  case  from  some  of  the  best  adjusters  (who  can  figure), 
and  much  oblige, 

Yours  respectfully, 

A.   WEBB  FOOTE, 

Inspector  of  Agencies, 
Chief  Clerk  and  Special  Adjuster  for  the 
Farmers'  Mutual  Insurance  Company 
of  Malaria  Corners,  Oregon. 

As  we  were  unable  to  get  written  opinions  from  the  leading  adjusters 
and  expert  accountants  requested  by  Mr.  Foote,  in  time  for  this  issue,  we 
take  the  liberty  of  giving  what  we  believe  would  be  their  views  in  this 
matter,  based  on  their  instructions  in  similar  cases.  From  prudential 
motives  we  omit  names,  and  simply  number  the  various  opinions,  which 
follow : 

(  Opinion  No.  i.  ) 


274  THE   KNAPSACK      1898 


The  settlement  in  accordance  with  the  mode  of  procedure  arbitrarily 
established  by  the  adjuster  in  question,  which  treatment  was  apparently 
sanctioned  and  confirmed  by  the  insurance  company  interested,  ostenta- 
tiously develops  a  latent  ambiguity  and  a  maximum  of  turpitude  which 
cannot  be  too  strongly  deprecated.  Without  attributing  absolute  criminal 
motives  to  the  aforesaid  adjuster  and  his  supporting  company,  it  will  be 
distinctly  obvious  to  the  meanest  comprehension  that  intervention  in  this 
case,  in  behalf  of  the  assured,  whose  entire  good  faith  cannot  be  success- 
fully impugned,  is  imperatively  demanded  in  the  interests  of  that  justice 
which  is  an  ineradicable  and  inherent  right  of  both  of  the  contracting 
parties,  regardless  of  preconceptions  or  prejudgment. 

As  a  mathematical  proposition,  even  if  it  were  based  on  purely 
supposititious  claims,  the  solution  presents  no  insuperable  contradictions. 
Primarily,  the  exact  words  of  the  policy  must  be  faithfully  and  studiously 
considered,  in  all  their  verbal  felicities,  or  infelicities,  nor  must  they  be 
diverted  into  channels  not  contemplated  originally.  The  chickens  in 
question,  without  considering  their  augmented  sound  value,  or  their 
augmented  present  value,  were  insured  on  an  average  valuation,  not  of 
forty  cents,  but  of  forty-one  and  two-thirds  cents  apiece.  To  prove  this 
beyond  the  faintest  penumbra  of  a  doubt,  add  33^  cents,  the  proportion 
of  one  lot,  to  50  cents,  the  proportion  of  the  other  lot,  and  divide  this  sum 
by  two.  The  quotient  is  the  insurance  on  each  chicken,  which  equals 
41%  cents.  Multiplying  240  by  41%  cents,  we  have  as  a  resultant  sum, 
$100,  which  is  the  correct  and  undoubted  answer. 

The  $96  settlement  is  plausible,  but  is  tainted  with  illegitimate  calcu- 
lation and  is  based  on  premises  radically  and  diametrically  antagonistic 
to  homogeneous  and  synthetic  reasoning. 


(  Opinion  No.  2.  ) 

Both  are  right.  The  difference  is  one  of  proportion.  To  solve  this 
quickly,  construct  a  diagram  shaped  like  an  ordinary  gridiron  or  pipe 
organ,  through  which  draw  a  line  broken  at  various  points  by  irregular 
angles  and  resembling  a  flash  of  lightning  taking  the  usual  zigzag  course. 
Let  the  top  jag  of  the  flash  represent  the  three  for  one  proportion ;  the 
middle  fork,  the  two  to  one  ratio,  and  the  tail  of  the  thunderbolt,  the  five 
to  two  proposition.  Now,  is  it  not  evident  that  by  arranging  a  series  of 
years  on  the  left  of  the  diagram,  extending  from  its  top  to  its  base  and 
averaging  the  size  and  weight  of  the  fowls  annually,  we  are  prepared,  by 
taking  these  in  connection  with  the  ratios,  to  arrive  at  a  fair  basis  for 
computation  ?  I  have  built  so  many  of  these  plans  that  I  am  satisfied  they 


"THE   KNAPSACK      1898 


give  to  anyone  with  good  eyesight  that  instantaneous  knowledge  which 
mere  words  cannot  convey.  I  do  not,  however,  insist  on  a  slavish 
allegiance  to  diagrams,  for  there  are  other  methods.  To  simplify  this 
further,  let  me  suggest  the  following :  Place  120  chickens  of  the  mixed 
breeds  in  a  box  (redwood  preferred,  but  any  old  box  will  do),  and 
deposit  120  Plymouth  Rocks  in  another  box.  Remove  the  chickens  from 
the  first  box  in  bunches  of  three,  and  every  time  three  are  taken  out, 
drop  a  dollar  in  a  sack.  Repeat  this  with  the  other  lot,  putting  one 
dollar  in  the  sack  for  every  two  chickens. 

When  the  boxes  are  empty,  there  will  be  $100  in  the  sack! 

To  prove  that  $96  is  also  correct,  mix  the  two  lots  of  chickens  in  one 
box  thoroughly,  and  remove  them  in  bunches  of  five,  depositing  two 


dollars  in  the  sack  for  every  cluster  of  chickens  taken  out  of  the  box. 
When  the  fowls  are  all  out,  there  will  be  just  $96  in  the  sack! 

I  might  elaborate  this  statement,  and  will  do  so  on  another  occasion, 
giving  full  diagrams,  but  for  the  present,  prefer  to  allow  the  young, 
thinking  adjuster  a  chance  to  grasp  the  principle,  and  then  work  it  out  for 
himself. 

If  books  of  account  were  kept,  the  loss  would  adjust  itself,  and  even  if 
the  books  were  burned,  my  system  of  cross-examination  would  so  confuse 
the  assured  that  a  solution  could  doubtless  be  arrived  at  within  three  or 
four  days. 


THE    KNAPSACK    1898 


Steps  to  be  taken.  (These  may  be  used  to  advantage  before  the  fire 
if  the  chickens  are  roosting  high.) 

First.  Average  the  fowls  into  as  many  groups  as  the  conditions  o* 
the  policy  demand. 

Second.    Ascertain  the  loss  of  each  group  separately. 
Third.    Do  not  mix  the  chickens. 

Fourth.  Divide  120  by  3  ;  the  quotient  will  be  the  loss  on  the  mixed 
group. 

Fifth.     Divide  120  by  2  ;  this  gives  the  loss  on  the  Plymouth  Rocks. 

Sixth.  Add  the  two  quotients.  The  sum  is  $100,  which  is  and  must 
be  correct. 

Note.  It  is  essential  that  the  chickens  be  counted  separately.  Do 
not  mix  the  chickens,  and  the  groups  will  be  so  fortified,  and  the  propor- 
tions so  clear,  that  the  problem  is  at  once  narrowed  down  to  an  ordinary 
mathematical  one. 


THE   KNAPSACK      1898 
(  Opinion  No.  4.  ) 


277 


This  is  a  simple  but  interesting  problem,  and  can  best  be  solved 
algebraically. 

Let  x  =  mixed  fowls ;  and  y  =  Plymouth  Rocks.  Then  x  -|-  y  =  240. 
As  3  to  $i,  120  are  to  £40,  and  as  2  to  $i,  120  are  to  |6o.  Form  the 
equation  and  raise  to  the  'nth  power.  The  answer  is  |ioo. 

Again,  by  compound  proportion : 
5:2::  240  :  x 

Multiply  the  means  and  divide  by  the  extremes.  Answer  is  196. 
This  leaves  a  difference  of  $4,  which  may  be  handed  to  the  assured  and 
charged  to  traveling  expenses. 


278  THE   KNAPSACK     1898 

(  Opinion  No.  5.  ) 


Adjusters  are  not  born,  but  made;  and  there's  a  difference  in  their 
makes.  The  problem  in  question  may  seem  hard  to  some,  but  gets 
easier  for  me  the  longer  I  work  on  it.  The  simplest  way  of  doing  it  is 
by  ledger  accounts.  Any  number  of  accounts  may  be  used.  Personally, 
I  prefer  not  less  than  seven,  but  at  this  time  will  give  but  two,  as  follows : 

Insurance  Company,  Dr $100 

To  Assured,  Cr $100 

To  120  chickens  at  33>^c $40 

To  120  chickens  at  5oc 60 

This  comes  out  just  even. 

Next  we  have — Loss  account,  Dr $96 

To  Bills  Payable,  Cr $96 

This  also  explains  itself. 

I  rather  think  the  difference  of  $4  may  arise  from  an  ingenious  change 
in  the  wording  of  the  policy  made  by  the  adjuster. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1898 


279 


My  method  of  settlement  is  based  on  plain  cayuse  sense,  and  can 
easily  be  done  with  chalk  on  a  barn  door. 

(  Opinion  No.  6.  ) 


The  $4  is  there,  but  you  don't  see  it. 

In  this  case  a  vital  point  escaped  the  adjuster,  and  that  is  depreciation. 
Some  of  the  chickens  probably  had  the  roup  or  the  pip  and  the  values 
were  too  high.  Good,  merchantable  hens  have  often  sold  in  Oregon  for 
$1.50  to  |3  a  dozen. 

A  fair  settlement  would  have  been  like  this : 

240  chickens  at  say  2oc  apiece $48 

Less  depreciation  for  sickness,  poor  condition, 
etc.,  33}^ 16 

Net  Loss $32 


280 


THE   KNAPSACK     1898 


As  the  assured  accepted  the  adjustment,  the  basis  of  $96  should 
stand.  Ain't  I  right,  eh  ?  An  adjustment  in  favor  of  the  company  should 
never  be  reopened. 

Of  course,  any  one  can  see  where  the  difference  of  $4  comes  in. 


(  Opinion  No.  7.  ) 


Was  the  premium  paid  before  the  fire?  If  not,  the  policy  should 
have  been  canceled  and  all  of  this  trouble  would  have  been  saved. 

I  frankly  confess  that  in  this  case,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  there  is 
but  one  member  of  the  trinity  of  underwriting  involved,  and  that  is 
agnosticism. 


THE   KNAPSACK     1898 

(  Opinion  No.  8.    Solution  from  Chicago.  ) 


281 


You  will  remember  that  Gladstone,  in  one  of  his  lighter  humors' 
asked :  ' '  What  are  we  all  doing  at  the  same  time  ? "  To  which  the 
Prince  of  Wales  aptly  replied  :  "Counting  our  chickens  before  they  are 
hatched !  "  May  we  not  apply  this  to  the  matter  in  question  ? 

The  old  rhyme  truly  says :          . 

"This  is  not  so  bad  a  world 

As  some  would  tell ; 

Heaven  may  be  no  better, 

And,  likewise,  hell." 

I  stood  one  evening  in  the  maze  at  Del  Monte  for  an  hour,  waiting 
for  some  one  to  show  me  the  way  out,  and  as  I  gazed  at  the  full  moon, 
and  heard,  softened  by  the  distance,  the  voices  of  the  guests  at  the  hotel, 
some  of  them,  perhaps,  in  the  same  condition  as  the  moon,  I  thought : 
11  How  transient  are  earth's  rivalries !  "  Oh,  why  should  we  worry  over 


282 


THE    KNAPSACK     1898 


trifles?    Let  us  keep  our  hearts  warm  and  our  hands  full,  for,  as  the 
Persian  poet  so  beautifully  said  : 

"  Some  wager  on  a  pair, 

And  some  on  threes  will  bet ; 
A  full  hand  's  good  enough  for  me, 
But  rather  hard  to  get." 

What  we  need  is  more  leisure.  The  lark  has  always  time  for  a  song, 
and  man  should  always  have  time  for  a  lark. 

But  it  must  not  be  all  play. 

Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  once  asked  an  able-bodied  individual  why  he 
did  not  work.  He  answered,  "Oh,  doctor,  I  am  an  insurance  manager  !  " 
There  is  a  lesson  in  this  for  some  of  us  ! 

In  conclusion  I  would  say  :  "  Don't  split  feathers,  nor  adjust  with  a 
microscope. ' ' 

EDWARD   NILES. 


THE  EDITOR,  THE  PROBLEM,  AND  THE  CHICKENS, 


THE   KNAPSACK      1898  283 


OUR  PRESIDENT  HAS  BEEN  GOING  AROUND  PICKING  UP  POINTS. 


284  THE   KNAPSACK      1898 


THE  LOVING   CUP. 

TON  the  conclusion  of  the  reading  of  the  Knapsack,  the  President 
turned  to  Mr.  Grant  and  said  : 

Mr.  Grant,  before  you  leave  the  desk  at  which  you  have  so 
acceptably  presided  during  the  reading  of  the  Knapsack,  I  have  a  little 
office  to  perform,  acting  for  the  members  of  the  Association,  your  friends. 
It  has  been  your  pleasure  and  your  custom  to  serve  us  as  editor  of  the 
Knapsack  these  many  years.  The  Knapsack  is  a  paper  that  is  known 
the  world  over.  We  all  appreciate  it,  and  we  all  come  here  to  listen  to 
it.  The  writing  of  such  a  paper  carries  with  it  not  merely  the  perform- 
ance of  the  editorial  work,  and  the  further  duty  of  reading  it  to  the  Asso- 
ciation, but  it  also  carries  with  it  a  duty  that  is  not  always  fulfilled  by 
those  who  have  it  in  charge.  Your  work  is  most  acceptably  done. 
Your  rendition  and  delineation  of  the  different  passages  and  characters  is 
inimitable.  You  attain  to  a  position  that  few  of  us  could  hope  to  gain. 
If  the  proceedings  lag,  the  sparkles  of  wit  in  the  interpretation  by  your 
good  self  in  the  Knapsack,  always  make  us  feel  that,  though  the  meeting 
may  have  been  dry,  the  Knapsack  always  gives  it  a  relish. 

Therefore,  on  behalf  of  your  friends,  Mr.  Grant,  I  wish  to  present  to 
you  to-day  a  "loving  cup,"  a  token  of  that  regard  which  we  all  feel  for 
you,  and  which  is  better  expressed  in  the  engraving  than  I  could  possibly 
phrase. 

Mr.  Grant — Mr.  President  and  Gentlemen :  I  have  sometimes  sim- 
ulated emotion  ;  now  I  feel  it.  Indeed,  I  find  it  very  difficult  to  speak  to 
you  at  all.  I  am  completely  taken  by  surprise. 

We  hear  that  said  often,  but  in  this  case  it  is  absolutely  true.  Who- 
ever had  this  beautiful  memento  in  hand,  has  kept  the  fact  from  me.  I 
have  not  even  heard  a  whisper  of  it.  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know  just  what 
to  say,  for  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  being  presented  with  such  beautiful 
and  valuable  gifts.  But  if  the  words  of  others,  which  I  have  always  en- 
joyed reading  to  you,  and  if  anything  I  have  been  able  to  write  has 


Presented  to  the  Editor  of  the  Knapsack,  with  the  love  of  his 
manv  friends. 


THE    KNAPSACK     1898  285 

pleased  you,  or  has  given  the  pleasure  I  have  hoped  and  anticipated, 
then  am  I  truly  glad.  For  many  years  we  have  met  in  this  assembly 
room  on  the  occasion  of  our  annual  gathering,  and  I  am  glad  to  think 
that  the  hearts  of  those  who  are  here  are  as  young  to-day  as  they  were 
years  ago  when  the  Association  was  formed,  the  result,  as  we  all  know, 
of  the  fire  at  Virginia  City.  And  I  do  believe  this,  that  the  managers 
who  annually  meet  with  the  boys  will  keep  more  thoroughly  in  touch 
with  the  progress  and  the  changes  ever  going  on  in  our  business,  and 
will  be  younger  in  spirit  and  better  able  to  withstand  the  attacks  of  time. 
And  I  hope,  gentlemen,  that  I  may  live  long  to  meet  you,  and  each  of 
you,  here.  I  thank  you  very  much. 


286  THE   KNAPSACK     1898 


flHD  thus  ends  the  first  volume  of  "Che  Knapsack/' 
its  sarcasm  is  without  sting?  its  wit  is  harmless;  its 
pathos  melts  only  the  softest  heart  Jls  a  whole,  it  is  in- 
tended to  bring  for  the  moment  a  sensation  of  pleasure  to 
a  "body  of  men"  buckled  into  harness,  tugging  with 
might  and  main. 

If,  in  the  reading  of  it,  the  spontaneous  laugh  can 
for  but  one  instant  speak  the  complacent  mood,  then  is  the 
mission  of  the  "Knapsack"  fulfilled,  and  it  has  "danced 
in  the  sunbeams "  to  some  purpose. 


Contents: 


PAGE 

A  Shadow  on  the  Business 3 

A  Water  Clause  Needed n 

A  Little  Talk  to  Special  Agents     22 

A  Motto  for  an  Insurance  Man 24 

About  Bringing  Good  into  the  Business 27 

A  Dream  (verses) 32 

A  Legend  of  the  Rhine(o) 34 

Agents'  Letters 35 

A  Lesson  in  Rating 49 

A  Merced  County  Day  Book 53 

A  "  Bar  "  Story 55 

A  Strong  Argument 68 

A  Young  Adjuster's  Points 71 

A  Specimen  Witness 71 

A  Mighty  Nimrod 72 

A  Reasonable  Claimant 79 

A  Definition 81 

A  Sample  Judicial   Decision 90 

A  Good  Agent 93 

Ammunition 97 

A  Character 98 

A  Timid,  Nervous  Man 131 

As  Others  See  Us 160 

A  Kick      181 

Abou  Bill  Sexton 187 

An  Arizona  Adjustment 195 

After  The  Fire 201 

A  Colorado  Adjustment     204 

An  Unprecedented  Salvage 208 

A  Nevada  Adjustment 221 

A  Detective  Story 225 

A  Cripple  Creek  Adjustment 236 

An  Insurance  Idyl 242 

A  Piety  Hill  Adjustment 246 

A  Dream 252 

A  Lost  Sheep 259 

A  Sermon  in  Lines 267 


ii  CONTENTS  ; 


Blacksmithing  in  Insurance n 

By-and-By 217 

Consolidation 14 

Commissions 23 

Circumstances  Alter  Cases 29 

Cause  and  Effect 37 

Consequential  Damage 40 

Calendars     no 

Character  Sketches 139 

Camp  Ten 152 

Cimex  Lectularious 166 

Clinch  Things 170 

Callingham  W.  J.,  Song     192 

Diamond  Cut  Diamond 86 

Damascus  Badlam 128 

Down  Went  137 

Dreadful  Effect  of  Credit  Rule 189 

Editorial  1880 i 

1881 10 

1882 26 

11        1883 44 

1884 61 

"        1885 67 

1886 • 75 

1887 96 

1888 118 

1889 132 

1890 135 

1891 150 

"        1892 164 

1893 179 

1894 199 

1895 215 

1896 231 

1897 240 

1898 257 

Extraordinary  Case 155 

Eight  Word  Poem 233 


CON  TENTS  :  iii 

PAGE 

Fire  From  Steam  Pipes 7 

Farnfield's  Song 94 

From  New  Jersey 133 

Farnfield,  C.  P 169 

Field  Notes     188 

Found  in  a  Palace  Car 238 

From  Chicago ,  . 243 

Getting  Board  Rates 49 

Going  For  Her  Bald  Headed 52 

Good  Advice 6a 

Harry  Smith's  Story     . 4 

Haversack  Philosophy 19 

How  I  Killed  My  Man 41 

Hints  to  Agents 47 

How  Our  Loss  Was  Settled 50 

His  Last  Trip 82 

Heavy  Adjustment 120 

How  Happj • .   .    .  258 

Hot  Time  In  '  Frisco 268 

Insurance  Against  Neighbors 14 

In  Memoriam  (verse) 58 

Influence  of  Association 124 

In  Other  Respects 190 

If  I  Should  Die  To-Night 220 

I  Didn't  Think  He  'd  Do  It 226 

Keep  a  Steppin' 150 

Killing  No  Murder 254 

More  Correspondence nt 

Model  Agent 126 

More  Calendars 134. 

Mother  and  Child      260 

One  of  Many 91 

Old  Joe  Brown 157 

Oh  What  a  Difference  in  the  Morning 171 

On  Her  Surroundings 211 


iv  CONTENTS: 

PAGE 

Poker  Bill 5 

Poor  Joe  E.  O'Shady 244 

Pure  Fiction 264 

Queries 160 

Railroading  in  the  Far  North 12 

Register  Early 31 

Running  a  Local  Board  in  Montana 64 

Rabbit  Stew  (verse) 73 

Rules  of  The  Game 241 

Rock-a-Bye  Compact 245 

Reveries 251 

Sunshine  in  the  Business 15 

Some  Talk  at  a  Country  Hotel 38 

Special  Agent  in  1870     185 

Such  a  Nice  Man,  Too 209 

Special  Spare  That  Rate 233 

Sout'  of  Market 234 

Slang      253 

The  Scalper's  Soliloquy 2 

The  Base  Line 20 

The  Country  Agent's  Lament 63 

The  Fine  Old  Underwriting  Board 65 

The  Enchanted  Lake 69 

The  Old  Canteen 77 

The  Underwriter  of  the  Future 101 

The  Local  Agent 108 

To  Take  Effect  at  Once 162 

The  Fuddydud 164 

The  Bogie  Man 173 

Ten  Little  Specials 174 

The  Special's  Wail 175 

The  Special  and  His  Grip     177 

The  Old  Adjuster's  Dream 191 

The  Modest  Mannered  Maiden 197 

The  New  Agent  at  Hanging  Rock     202 

The  Woman's  Exchange 212 


CONTENTS  ; 


PAGE 

The  Suppressed  Version     223 

The  Naughty  Man 228 

Throw  Up  Your  Hands 266 

The  Chicken  Dispute 270 

The  Loving  Cup 284 

Where  Was  The  Deacon? 18 

Water  Privileges 30 

What's  the  Use 59 

Wilson,  John  Scott  (speech) 113 

When  The  Specials  Come  Home 213 

Wait,  Mr.  Postman 228 

Whither  Are  We  Drifting? .261 


:!TY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

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